


Don't Stand in the Fire

by cellardoor



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Guild AU (kinda), M/M, Young Avengers play MMORPGs and are stupid teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 05:12:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 55,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1292638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellardoor/pseuds/cellardoor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Billy wanted was to fend off the burning legion and get a sweet new staff. How did it all get so complicated?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i. Starting Area

**Author's Note:**

> All of your epic Young Avengers AUs are the BLOOD FLOWING THROUGH MY VEINS, so this is me giving back. (Except it's probably 5000 times more ridiculous.) 
> 
> Hopefully, unless I've really messed up, you don't need to be super familiar with WoW or MMORPGs for this! For those who do play, please do excuse the liberties I've taken. It's a Vol 1 lovefest, but everyone is invited! 
> 
> Thank you to the lovely annafh for giving me the courage to post this! 
> 
> (As far as warnings goes, bullying and so on will feature quite heavily, so if you're wanting to avoid that, this might not be for you.)

"For fuck's sake, Wic," Nate snaps, and Billy feels a dual sense of annoyance; at the needless profanity in such dangerous proximity to his mom, and at the casually shortened 'Wic' that's been insidiously creeping in over voice chat recently. Nate might be happy enough losing his online moniker - not that ‘Iron Lad’ was particularly inspired - but Billy  _chose_ Wiccan, and he likes it just the way it is, thank you very much.

Oh, and also -

“That wasn’t entirely my fault!” Billy points an ineffective finger at his screen. “It freaks me out when your health does that whole disappearing thing. Warn a guy!”

Nate’s drawn-out sign crackles over the speakers.

“Wic-”

“ _Wiccan_.” Billy hisses, for all the good it does (he doesn’t quite have the courage to activate his microphone) and braces himself for the tirade that is sure to follow. As usual. Nate’s reliable like that, which is why he: a.) drives everyone completely insane, and b.) makes an outstanding raid leader. God knows Billy appreciates it more often than not, but after the tenth text today politely requesting that Billy _please_ remember to _only_ use his cooldowns in phase two, he is less than appreciative.

He doesn’t even know how Nate got his number. Should that worry him?

His bedroom door handle creaks and Billy starts fumbling desperately for his headphones.

“Mom, I swear, I’m just-”

Tommy’s face, complete with grin, pokes around the door. “What’s up, _Wic_?” His twin - Billy’s mirror image if it weren’t for the white hair and carefully cultivated air of chaos - considers closed doors to be mere suggestions.

Billy groans. “Don’t, just - don’t.”

Tommy snorts, casually draping himself across Billy's bed. The wall between their bedrooms - erected haphazardly by a sweating, swearing Jeff Kaplan - is comically thin, hence his brother being privy to his online failings. The once temporary solution to their sharing a room has become permanent, and the paper thin plasterboard has never been replaced. Honestly, for all its faults, Billy finds it weirdly comforting. Tommy and he avoid at all costs any 'creepy twin stuff', but apparently their morse code-esque tapped conversations don't count.

The downside is that Tommy basically considers Billy's room an extension of his own, outside of quaint conventions like 'knocking' or 'privacy'.

“What’s this asshole’s problem this time?” Tommy says, rearranging Billy's pillows to his satisfaction.

“He’s not an asshole,” Billy says dutifully, “he was just a bit over vigorous with life tap, and I popped all my cooldowns.”

“Warlocks,” Tommy says sagely, as if he does anything other than hang around in stealth mode by the respawn area in battlegrounds. (That’s pretty much his brother all over - there’s nothing _technically_ wrong with it, but it’s enough of a dick move he really shouldn’t do it. But he does. Go figure.)

They sit quietly, listening to Nate’s increasingly ridiculous rant in contemplative silence.

“He always outdoes himself,” Billy says thoughtfully, “I think they get longer each time.”

“He’s such a tool.” Tommy stretches out languidly on Billy’s bed. “Why do you bother?”

Well, that’s complicated. Or - not that complicated at all. Billy elects to ignore the question. It’s probably rhetorical anyway.

“You should join.”

“What, and have that asshole rip me a new one every time I don’t do everything _exactly right_?” Tommy raises his eyebrows. “Er, yeah, I don’t think so.”

“Ok, so Nate’s a bit intense,” Billy says, “But everyone else is great, and we could seriously use you-” Is he about to do this? Is he actually about to say this? Billy is an awful, awful person. “-and I think you and Hawkeye would really get along."

If Kate knew he was doing this, she would rip his intestines out and wear them as a scarf. Maybe display his head on the walls as a warning to others.

“Uhuh?” Tommy says, and his expression is unreadable. “What is it you’re calling yourself, anyway, what was that lame name-”

“The Young Avengers,” Billy sniffs, because he _likes_ it, and it sounds _awesome_ , and screw Tommy and his awful taste and his uninvited opinions.

His brother laughs. "And what do _they_ think of that?"

Billy clears his throat. "Er, well-"

“They don’t _know_?" Tommy sits up with undisguised glee. “So _that’s_ why you ditched your Asgardian alt.”

“Not entirely.” Billy wrote an extremely long blog post on his newfound class allegiance, and he would be more than willing to recite it verbatim, if Tommy gave him half a chance. He suspects that might make him quite tedious. (He doesn’t care.)

Tommy is staring dreamily at the ceiling, looking beyond delighted at the smallest opportunity to raise hell.

"Count me in, this is going to be _good."_

 

_*_

 

[Guild] [Wiccan] : I may have found us an extra DPS

[Guild] [Iron Lad] : yeah?

[Guild] [Stature] : oooooh do tell?

[Guild] [Wiccan] : my brother said he’d give it a go

[Guild] [Iron Lad] : we’re raiding tomorrow, bring him along

 

*

 

It’s Thursday. Billy fucking hates Thursdays.

He also hates that everyone _knows_ he hates Thursdays, and he hates his mom hovering behind him nervously while he eats his cereal, and he hates Tommy watching him shrewdly on the bus, and he hates the way everyone clears a three meter radius around him in the changing room, but most of all - he hates the feel of the air vents on his locker as they scrape down his cheek. If he’s going to facetious about it - and let’s face it, it’s his primary coping mechanism - he has much better things to be doing with his time.

It’s not a big deal. It can’t be, because otherwise, his life would be biggest pile of shit in the entire world, and he really, _really_ doesn’t want that.

Billy’s gotten pretty good at staying out of trouble over the past year, which makes it sound as if he went looking for it in the first place, which he definitely didn’t. Besides, ‘trouble’ sounds kind of fun and roguish and not at all like having your head held in the toilet, which - apparently - isn’t a myth. It’s an actual thing that actual kids do to each other. (To Billy. Whatever.)

He flew mostly under the radar before high school, which was exactly where he always wanted to be. He doesn't know what happened, or how he could have stopped it, but it just… started. He must have missed the memo about how to be a proper teenager. It’s actually not as bad as it used to be, although his face tells a different story. It is definitely less frequent, and he’s better at disappearing. It’s a big school, there are plenty of ways to blend in. Gym class, however, is another story.

It’s not that he’s terrible at sport, it’s just become self-fulfilling at this point. He could do track and field with Tommy were it not for his incredibly noble (and incredibly stupid) efforts to avoid dragging his brother into his sinkhole of uncoolness. There must have been a first time - the first time he messed up, the first time the ball smacked him in the face and everyone started laughing. So then, he started dreading the ball smacking him in the face again, he got nervous and messed up, and so the ball ended up smacking him in the face. It just escalated from there, to the point where he’s sweating like crazy before he’s even walked into the changing room. It’s stopped becoming about the ball smacking him in the face, but he tries not to think about that. I mean, missing the ball is pretty stupid. There’s some kind of fucked up justification there. It’s not like the complete immutability of being born a certain way. He doesn’t even want to try and catch it, these days, because what if he _managed?_ They’d probably still slam him up against the wall, and that is too depressing to even contemplate.

He washes his face in the sink and tries not to think about what a stupid loser he is. His face looks even paler than usual, his dark hair stuck to his forehead. He dries his hair with some paper towels and inspects the damage. Could be worse. Definitely, could be worse.

He stares moodily at his reflection and pulls his hood up. Much better, much less obvious. Plus, it matches the current headgear on his druid. He almost smiles at that, because that was the thought of a stupid loser, but the kind of stupid loser he is more than happy to be.

 

*

 

If being beaten to a pulp has an upside, it’s that it makes you hungry. Of course, so do a lot of other things that don’t involve pain and humiliation, but Billy’s trying to look on the bright side. He scans the room for the familiar shock of white hair complete with tray full of fries, and sure enough, Tommy is in his usual seat, fries already gone. Billy crosses the room with relief, only to tense up again on seeing Lisa sat opposite his twin, shooting daggers at Billy.

Lisa was sort of Tommy's girlfriend at one point, but now... Billy has no idea. He doesn't really like her. She’s not a bad person as such, she’s just - chaotic neutral, basically, which is the last thing Tommy needs. If there was a Lisa-equivalent in Billy’s life - well, that’s the thing - there wouldn’t be. Not because Billy has learned to stay away from toxic people, but because Tommy wouldn’t dream of letting Billy delude himself like that. It kind of breaks his heart that his brother’s standards for himself are so much lower.

"Hi Lisa," Billy says, sitting down tentatively in the seat next to Tommy. She ignores him completely.  She's been ignoring him ever since her sixteenth birthday party, when Billy offended her friend through - he feels - no fault of his own. Parties are, strictly speaking, outside his comfort zone, and when Tommy and Lisa mysteriously disappeared  he was left in the horrific position of actually having to talk to people. For once, his reputation didn't precede him and one of Lisa's friends - rather foolishly, he feels - misinterpreted his nervous babbling about Norse mythology as an inept form of flirting. He's not exactly a master of seduction, but he's pretty sure that's not how it usually goes.

Long story short, she ended up sulking all evening and Billy and Tommy were unceremoniously thrown out by her parents - Billy for making a girl cry and Tommy for trying to climb out Lisa's bedroom window with no pants on. 

Tommy seems to have been forgiven for his transgression, but Billy clearly hasn't. 

He rolls his eyes at Tommy, which is apparently entirely the wrong thing to do, because it draws attention to his face. Tommy leans over and yanks his hood back, narrowing his eyes.

Billy swats him away. “Leave it!”

“You’re bleeding, you idiot.”

“Not much,” Billy says, and he almost wants to laugh at that pathetic little sentence. He stares determinedly at his food and tries to look like there’s nothing more he’d like to do than eat it. It had been true, just a second ago.

“Why are you bleeding?” Lisa says, without much interest. At least he knows what it takes to get her to talk to him again - nothing less than the sacrificial spilling of blood. He shouldn’t be so surprised.

“Your mom’s going to freak out,” Tommy says, and he sounds angry, which is fucking ridiculous. If anyone should be angry, it should be Billy, and he’s _fine_. Gym is over for another week, he’s raiding tonight, and it looks like he’s going to avoid having a black eye. Peachy.

“I _know_!” Billy snaps, and turns to glare at his brother. “I don’t do it to annoy her!”

Tommy makes an irritated sound in his throat. “You should go to the nurse.”

“I’m not going to the nurse.”

“You’re _bleeding_. Go to the fucking nurse.”

“It’s just a flesh wound,” Billy says, and shoots him a sideways glance. Tommy wrestles unsuccessfully with stifling his grin, and his instinct to join in.

“‘Tis but a scratch.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“ _Urgh_ ,” Lisa says, and stands up abruptly, seemingly unimpressed. To Billy’s delight, Tommy completely ignores her, and she stalks off.

“Raid tonight,” Billy says, still grinning.

Tommy’s eyes flick back to his cheek, but he takes the bait. Billy could hug him.

They spent the rest of lunch arguing over whether gathering professions are the most efficient way to make money.

 

*

 

Billy hates Thursdays, so his mom makes cookies. He really does appreciate the effort -  she’s not really a cookies-kind-of-mom - which is why a.) they’re not great, and b.) he feels doubly awful. The guilt hits him with the buttery smell as he walks through the door and he seriously debates legging it up the stairs and locking himself in his room all night.

But that really isn’t an option.

“Brilliant.” He mutters. “She made cookies.”

“God, yeah, what a _pain in the ass_.” Tommy scoffs, “Having a mom who cares about you and bakes you stuff. _Awful_.”

Billy could not feel like more of an asshole if he tried.

He pulls the door shut behind them. “You obviously haven’t tasted them.”

“Yeah, and I’m not going to.” Tommy drops his bag and throws his coat inaccurately at the rack. It slides down the wall, and lands in a crumpled heap. “Because that, little bro, is the sugary smell of you having a mother-son heart to heart.”

“ _Tommy_.” Billy lunges for him, but his twin is already halfway up the stairs.

“Just tell her, you idiot.”

“Tell her what?” Billy hisses. “Tommy, you can’t-”

“Billy?” His mom pokes her head around the kitchen door. “Hi, Tommy. How was school?”

Tommy leans over the bannister. “Peachy, Mrs. K,” He says, the slightest of slight smirks directed towards Billy. “I’ve got this crazy long history assignment to do tonight, though. I'd better get started."

"Very responsible." Rebecca says dryly, raising an eyebrow. "I'm impressed."

Or more likely, not fooled in the slightest.

"Cookie?" She says, and Billy notes that she doesn't ask him how his day was. Has she already registered the bruise, or had his careful head positioning in the half light of the hallway worked?

He follows her into the kitchen and opens the fridge immediately, a cool barrier between his face and her shrewd gaze.

"The boys not home yet?" He asks, pouring himself a drink with feigned concentration. These days, Alex and Michael are always 'the boys', whereas Billy and Tommy are 'the twins'. He used to be part of ‘the boys’. He doesn’t really know how that makes him feel.

"They're at practice tonight."

"Right, yeah." Billy can't really extend his stay in the fridge much longer, so grasping his glass of milk hard enough to turn his nails white, he turns around.

The reaction is immediate.

"Oh, _Billy_." Rebecca gestures for him to sit down, and immediately reaches for the medicine cupboard.

"Huh?" He says, unconvincingly, "Oh, that. Basketball to the face. It's fine." He tries his hand at an airy laugh.

Rebecca doesn't call bullshit, or point out that basketballs aren't sharp, or say anything at all. She just wordlessly dabs at his face with an antiseptic wipe.

Tommy’s got it all wrong, because there is absolutely nothing that needs to be said. She knows, and he knows she knows, and _she knows_ he know she knows.

So he gives her a lively blow-by-blow replay of his chemistry practical, because they’ve got to keep up the charade, and she smiles tightly and laughs in all the right places. He forces a cookie down, and tells her they’re amazing. She squeezes his shoulder and tells him that she’s always here if he wants to talk, and he lets her pull him in for a hug. If there was a textbook for Perfect Motherhood, she’d be following it to the letter, and he’s still letting her down.

He dashes upstairs, bellowing a cursory “hi” at his dad, and shuts his door carefully, because he doesn’t want to risk overhearing a single word of the conversation they’re about to have about him.

 

*

 

[Guild] [Wiccan] : hey guys

[Guild] [Wiccan] : I come bearing gifts!

_Speed has come online._

[Guild] [Wiccan] : well, gift singular

[Guild] [Wiccan] : ladies and gentlemen - my brother

[Guild] [Stature] : hi :)

[Guild] [Hulkling] : hello!

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : hi

[Guild] [Patriot] : hi

[Guild] [Speed] : twin, actually

[Guild] [Stature] : omg wic you have a twin??

[Guild] [Wiccan] : unfortunately

[Guild] [Wiccan] : I like to think I’m still special and unique

[Guild] [Stature] : that’s so cool!!

[Guild] [Hulkling] : you’re still a very special snowflake, Wiccan

[Guild] [Hulkling] : /pats head

[Guild] [Stature] : are you identical?

[Guild] [Speed] : nah

[Guild] [Speed] : I'm better looking

[Guild] [Wiccan] : he's also the modest one, as you may have noticed

[Guild] [Speed] : don't forget witty

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : class?

[Guild] [Speed] : rogue

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : of course

[Guild] [Stature] : yay that's ace!!

[Guild] [Wiccan] : so who's on for tonight?

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : everyone I think

[Guild] [Patriot] : cant

[Guild] [Patriot] : family dinner thing

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : boooooooo

[Guild] [Patriot] : if you want to take that up with my terrifying grandma, feel free

[Guild] [Hulkling] : so who’s our other tank then?

[Guild] [Patriot] : chavez said she'd off spec it

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : oh crap

[Guild] [Hulkling] : ohh

[Guild] [Wiccan] : shotgun not healing her

[Guild] [Stature] : me neither!!!

[Guild] [Wiccan] : too late

[Guild] [Wiccan] : I have invoked the ancient law of shotgun

[Guild] [Stature] :  :(

[Guild] [Wiccan] : you're stuck with me, Hulkling

[Guild] [Hulkling] : great!

[Guild] [Hulking] : druids 5eva

[Guild] [Speed] : whos chavez?

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : dps monk usually

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : she's great

[Guild] [Wiccan] : she can't tank for shit though

[Guild] [Patriot] : well shes getting better

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : hmmm

[Guild] [Stature] : she's just a bit unpredictable

[Guild] [Stature] : thats all

[Guild] [Wiccan] : she's insane

[Guild] [Wiccan] : please don't tell her I said that

[Guild] [Wiccan] : I'm too young to die

[Guild] [Stature] : lol

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : where's our illustrious gm?

[Guild] [Stature] : nate just texted to say hes nearly done with tea :)

[Guild] [Stature] : so start at 8?

[Guild] [Speed] : sounds good

[Guild] [Patriot] : ill be off then

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : you suck!!

[Guild] [Stature] : seeya patriot

[Guild] [Patriot] : laters

_Patriot has gone offline._

[Guild] [Wiccan] : ok, last minute snack and\or pee time!

[Guild] [Stature] : i'll round up loki and vision

[Guild] [Hulking] : ...I know way too much about your peeing habits

[Guild] [Wiccan] : ahhh the beauty of internet friendships

[Guild] [Hulkling] : your bladder has been the bane of many a raid

[Guild] [Speed] : sounds about right

[Guild] [Wiccan] : you're just jealous I'm so well hydrated

[Guild] [Wiccan] : brb

 

*

 

"Alright," Billy says, "I'm getting popcorn, want anything?"

Tommy has set up camp with his laptop on Billy's floor. "Coke? Chips?"

"Done and done."

Billy dashes down to the kitchen, sticks the popcorn in the microwave and starts piling his arms full with wholesome saturated fats.

" _Billy."_

He jumps at his mom's voice, nearly dropping everything.

"Um, hi mom! Tommy and I were just, er, stocking up on raid sustenance." He flashes her a winning smile, face carefully angled as to hide his left cheek behind the cola bottle.

"You don't need the whole packet, surely." Rebecca frowns. "Wouldn't you like some apples, or maybe-"

" _Mom._ " Billy says, exasperated. "We can't heroically defend Azeroth from the Scourge if we’re _eating fruit_. Be reasonable."

That earns him a smile, and a resigned shrug. “Ok, well - just don’t stay up too late.”

“Do I ever?” The microwave beeps, and Billy is forced to turn his face fully towards her as he grabs the popcorn. He can’t bear her expression. It’s not that she’s angry, or pitying, or despairing - but that she’s _not_ , and she ought to be, because she has two fully biological sons that will never cause her half the trouble or disappointment that Billy does. She should be... _something_.

It’s that lack of something that makes him burst out: “Tommy just joined my guild, and it’s his first raid with us.”

A small spark of interest, just as he’d expected. “Mmhm?”

“We’re a local guild,” Billy hears himself say, “Nate recruited people from around here who are our age, he thought it’d be cool to have stuff in common.”

“Oh,” Rebecca says, as if she can’t quite decide whether she’s alarmed he’s meeting people online, or pleased he’s making friends. The fear instilled in his parent’s generation of internet predators - that he and Tommy are constantly rolling their eyes at - is well-meant, so he grins reassuringly.

“Anyway, the forces of evil call...”

“Well, of course.” Rebecca ruffles his hair - which he accepts dutifully - and half-smiles. “Don’t let me keep you.”

Once back upstairs, he throws the cola in Tommy’s vague direction, props up the popcorn in an easily accessible place, and settles down in front of his keyboard. Tommy is already on voice chat, having apparently bonded with his guildmates more in an hour than Billy managed in a month. He’d be jealous if it was anyone else.

“Sorry, parental interlude,” Billy says, adjusting his microphone. “She took issue with our snacking habits.”

“Which are?” Kate asks, and he can hear the crunch of something she’s biting into, which sounds suspiciously like an apple. Freak.

“Perfect raiding food!” Billy says, indignantly. “Lots of salt, sugar, saturated fats-”

“Ok, guys,” Nate says, and it is his I-mean-business voice. Tommy raises his eyebrows and smirks. “Did you all read the tactics?”

Tommy rolls his eyes, because of _course_ he didn’t read the tactics. He never reads the tactics. He is ideologically _averse_ to reading the tactics. Everyone else gives a vague chorus of assent, and Billy resigns himself to hissing instructions at Tommy under his breath for the next few hours.

(Billy _did_ read the tactics. And a few blog posts. And watched some youtube videos. And had several prolonged discussions on various forums.)

“Buffs, potions, yada yada,” Nate says, “then let’s get started.”

 

*

 

All in all, it’s not a total disaster. America manages to make things incredibly difficult, which annoys Nate, but sends Billy and Hulkling into hysterics. Which, of course, annoys Nate even more. They don’t clear it before 10pm rolls around, at which point they decide to call it a night.

“Ok,” Nate says, with the air of someone keeping their cool through intense self-control, “that wasn’t too bad, well done everyone.”

“Well, we are a social guild,” Cassie says, sounding slightly harassed. “We’re not like, super serious, or anything.”

 _They’re sort-of-maybe dating_ , Billy mouths at Tommy, who pulls a face. _We think_.

_He’s an asshole._

_He’s not_ -

“Sure,” Tommy says out loud, “because sitting in front of your computer alone for hours is sociable.”

“Which is _exactly_ why I’ve been saying we should meet up!” Cassie says brightly. “Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

“Yeah, totally.”

“Sounds fun!”

“Why not?

Tommy glances at him, but Billy stays resolutely silent.

“How about you, Wiccan? Speed?”

“Sure,” Tommy says slowly, “Why not?”

Billy makes an uncertain sound, and Tommy shoots him a quizzical look.

“Billy’s allergic to sunlight,” Tommy jokes, “we’ll need to meet at night.”

“AHAH!” Kate shouts, and Billy jumps as his headphones crackle with the volume.

“So his name is _Billy_?” Hulking says with interest, and Billy, to his utter disgust, turns violently pink. Luckily, there is only Tommy to witness his shame. Or unluckily, whichever.

He covers his microphone. “Tommy, _no_. Please.”

“You didn’t tell them your name? _Interesting_.”

“He’s been very mysterious,” Cassie says, “We weren’t going to ask or anything, but…”

“I like him.” Kate declares. “I say we keep the spare; he clearly has his uses.”

Tommy beams blissfully for a moment, before his brain suddenly snaps into gear. “Hang on, the _spare_ -”

“I suppose you know his name?” Billy says, a little resigned.

“I didn’t know we were a state secret,” Tommy says, and he looks almost apologetic. “Sorry, bro.”

“We’re not, I guess,” Billy rubs his eyes and sighs. He’s going to have to come up with something convincing. “I dunno, I just liked the idea of being known as Wiccan, you know?” It’s total nonsense, but Hulkling hums understandingly anyway, because he’s a nice person. Tommy, somewhat inexplicably, rolls his eyes.

“We should meet though, don’t you think?” Cassie is saying, and Tommy shoots Billy an utterly terrifying grin.

Nate hums in vague agreement, but Tommy is pushing his microphone button and saying: “How’s next weekend? We could get milkshakes.”

“ _Milkshakes_ ,” Billy splutters, as Tommy bats his eyelashes at him. “What the _fuck-_ ”

“Retro.” Kate says, “I like it."

“We should go to that place where they’ll blend _anything_ ,” Hulkling says excitedly, “like, you can bring _anything at all_ and they’ll put it in.”

“You sound way too excited about that.”

“Like, even beef jerky?”

“God, don’t be disgusting-”

“I’m bringing popcorn!”

“Let’s get Patriot broccoli, that would be amazing-”

“No way, I don’t want to get sucker punched-”

Billy slides down in his chair and groans. “ _Tommy_. Look what you’ve done.”

“I’m your social life co-ordinator, stop whining.” He reaches over to grab a handful of Billy’s popcorn. “You should be thanking me.”

“If by ‘thanking’ you mean ‘punching’, then sure.”

“So,” Kate is saying. “Twelve, milkshakes. Be there.”

“Sure,” Tommy says breezily, “sounds good. We’ll be there.”

Billy makes an unsure noise, wrinkles his nose. “Will we?”

“ _Yes_ ,you will!”

“Well, only if you want to,” says Hulkling, and Billy feels a small rush of gratitude. “It’d be cool, though. If you came.”

“Um-”

“Like I said,” Tommy interrupts smoothly, “We’ll be there.”

Billy logs out of voice chat as Tommy snaps his laptop shut, rubbing a weary hand over his face. “What do you care if I have a social life?”

Tommy smirks. “Shut up, it’ll be fun.”

Billy lets his head fall into his desk with a very final thud. Oh, boy.

 

*

 

[Hulkling] whispers: sorry man, I feel bad for making such a big deal about the name thing

To [Hulkling]: honestly don’t worry about it

[Hulking] whispers: we didn’t mean to put you on the spot or make you uncomfortable

[Hulkling] whispers: that’s the last thing we want

To [Hulking]: haha seriously it’s fine

[Hulkling] whispers: having said that...

To [Hulkling]: yeeeeah?

[Hulkling] whispers: I am now crazy curious about the rest of the stuff you never told us

To [Hulkling]: haha well I promise you it is intensely dull

[Hulkling] whispers: I know a deflection when I see one, BILLY

To [Hulkling]: you got me

To [Hulkling]: the thing is

To [Hulkling]: what if turned out that we like

To [Hulkling]: went to the same school or something

[Hulkling] whispers: I’m not seeing how that would be a bad thing

To [Hulkling]: oh god no I didn’t mean that

To [Hulkling]: sorry!

To [Hulkling]: I just mean

To [Hulkling]: the world does not like me

To [Hulkling]: I just KNOW one of you guys is going to end up being at my school because that is my life

To [Hulkling]: and not that you aren’t all awesome it’s just that

To [Hulkling]: I’m like the lamest person ever

To [Hulkling]: urgh I can’t explain

[Hulkling] whispers: worried we’ll discover what a dork you are?

To [Hulkling]: no

To [Hulkling]: well

To [Hulkling]: basically yeah

[Hulkling] whispers: because we already know you’re a huge loser

To [Hulkling]: ...thanks

[Hulkling] whispers: so we won’t be surprised when, IRL, you turn out to be a huge loser

[Hulkling] whispers: just like the rest of us, I might add

To [Hulkling]: I never said you’d be surprised

To [Hulkling]: just obligated to pretend you liked me

[Hulkling] whispers: don’t be stupid

[Hulkling] whispers: we wouldn’t pretend ;)

[Hulkling] whispers: but seriously that is a really stupid thing to worry about

To [Hulkling]: probably

[Hulkling] whispers: so you’ll come to the meet up then

To [Hulkling]: I will?

[Hulkling] whispers: great! that’s sorted then

To [Hulkling]: I feel manipulated

[Hulkling] whispers: :)

[Hulkling] whispers: also, good healing, druid buddy!

To [Hulkling]: likewise, sir tankalot

[Hulkling] whispers: anyway, I gotta sleep

To [Hulkling]: sleep, yes, sleep is good

To [Hulkling]: catch you later

[Hulkling] whispers: night BILLY

To [Hulkling]: is my name doomed to capitalization now

[Hulkling] whispers: until the novelty wears off

[Hulkling] whispers: BILLY

[Hulkling] whispers: GOODNIGHT BILLY

To [Hulkling]: night

To [Hulkling]: creeper

[Hulkling] whispers: just wait til I get your surname

 _Hulkling has gone offline_.

Billy grins at his screen.

It's a complex emotion. Billy's ok, really; he knows that. He can hold an intelligent and reasonably interesting conversation, he tries to be kind, and he's loyal to a fault.

Billy is, despite the shitty school situation, more or less at peace with himself. It's everything else he can't make sense of, and he can't bear the idea of bringing people into his stupid little mess of a life. Not people he likes, people who have met him without preconceptions.

He doesn't think they'll dislike him for his 'situation,' he's not afraid they'd take one look at his messed up eye and run in the other direction.

He doesn’t want their _pity_ , that’s the thing.

 

*

 

They’re late. They’re late late _late_ because Tommy was in the bathroom for an unholy amount of time, and then he insisted on eating like five slices of toast and a _fucking_ grilled cheese sandwich _even though they are going to eat once they get there_ and Billy is going to _kill_ him, he is going to actually tear him limb from limb with his bare hands, and he is going to enjoy it.

He wanted to be early, and now they are _late_. They can’t sit and wait for everyone to arrive with some sort of inherent authority over the situation because they were there first, they have to arrive after _everyone else_ and be simultaneously appraised and judged by everyone. Billy is going to actually, genuinely expire, and it is five thousand percent his brother’s fault.

Then - of course - the bus is late, and Billy spends the whole journey surreptitiously checking his reflection in the lock screen of his phone, just in case his cheek has suddenly stopped healing, in case the universe truly is conspiring against him and his body’s healing process is somehow reversed.

And then, the milkshake bar has enormous windows and he sees people laughing and talking through the giant straw logo on the glass, and he stops abruptly and decides maybe he’ll just go home after all. Yep, he’s just going to turn around, get on the bus, go home to hide under his covers and pretend he’s a different person. He can make up an excuse later, maybe say he was sick, or that he -

“Oh for _chrissake,”_ Tommy says, and he grabs his arm and bodily hauls Billy through the doorway. “You are such an infant.”

Do he hate his brother? He thinks he might hate his brother. His brother is a stupid asshole.

“That’s _got_ to be them!” A voice says, excitedly, and before Billy can really register that _this is actually_ _happening_ , he’s being steered into a booth and a milkshake is being thrust at him.

“Billy, right?” A dark-haired girl says, shuffling along to let him in, “And Tommy?”

Billy nods, dumbfounded, and Tommy grins, sliding in on the opposite side next to a blonde girl.

“We got you strawberry,” someone says, “because you can’t go wrong with strawberry, right?”

“Strawberry’s great,” Billy manages, and he takes a huge sip in hope of precluding the necessity of him needing to talk for the next few seconds. Thankfully, Tommy takes over.

“So, Kate?” He says, pointing at the girl next to Billy. She takes a mock bow. “Which makes you... Stature?”

“Call me Cassie,” the blonde girl corrects him with a smile. “And this is Nate,” - she points at an intense looking boy next to her-  “ that’s his brother, Jonas,” - she nods towards a less intense and seemingly shyer boy next to him - “and they’re our two tanks next to Kate, Eli and Teddy.”

Eli gives a polite “hey” - Billy is perversely pleased to see he looks slightly awkward, too - and Teddy leans over the table to give Billy an enthusiastic grin. Billy turns his head towards him, curiosity trumping nerves. Fellow huge loser Billy’s _intellect hood_ -er, hat. Teddy is a picture of effortless cool, blonde and nonchalant in a green shirt and a row or piercings down his ear. Wow, ok. And to think they’re _friends_. Billy needs to up his game. He focuses super hard on not dribbling milkshake everywhere. At least he wiped the toothpaste off his face from this morning, so that’s one less piece of evidence towards his status as human disaster.

“You came!”

“I was coerced.” Billy says, and Teddy laughs. “Despite my reservations.”

Tommy opens his mouth with gleeful intent, and Billy kicks him in the shins, _hard_. He is reasonably certain his refusal on the street is about to be made common knowledge, and that is definitely not how he wants this to go. Tommy mouths obscenities at him and take a sullen swig of his milkshake.

“No America or Loki,” Kate says, “but I feel like it’s _probably_ for the best, in case they tear each other’s throats out, or something.”

“Probably best to avoid that,” Eli agrees, and Kate sniggers.

“I dunno, I think it could be fun.”

“As Guild Leader, I’m going to have to veto murder,” Nate says, dry as sand. Billy grins uncertainly, and Nate meets his gaze with a slight nod. He’s sitting just a little bit too angled towards Cassie, and if this wasn’t real life and everything, he would totally be whispering Hawkeye: ‘I knew it!!!!’ They’ll have to compare notes later. He meets her eyes and she looks _delighted_. They are definitely comparing notes.

There’s a slightly uncomfortable silence as everyone simultaneously takes a sip of their drink.

“So,” Cassie says, tucking her hair behind her ears and beaming around the table. “Did anyone read Scarlet’s blog post about the patch?”

Cassie is magic, she really is. Billy wants to hug her.

“Oh my god, don’t get me _started_ -”

“I had an argument with this stupid troll in the comments-”

“Stop _feeding_ them, Teddy, they’re just idiots.”

“I had to defend my class!”

As Teddy leans across the table for a high five, Billy feels himself starting to grin without the undercurrent of nervousness, and realises he’s actually _having fun_.

Achieved unlocked, or something. It’s pretty cool.

 

*

 

As several of them slide out the booth for a second round of calcite goodness, Billy finds himself next to Teddy. Who is, by the way, probably the most likeable person Billy has ever met. It’s incredibly disorienting, because he looks like he should be drinking beer and playing Call of Duty, not explaining to Billy with an incredible earnestness just how much loves Vanessa Vancleef. His Pavlovian reaction to cool-looking people is very telling, and probably a really awful habit. Wow, he is a terrible person.

“So,” Teddy says, “I have a confession.”

“Huh?” Billy whips his head round. “That sounds ominous.”

“It’s a bit creepy,” Teddy says, and gives him a sheepish smile. “But I had to know.”

“Go on.” Billy folds his straw nervously. “Put me out my misery.”

“Ok, so, I remembered that you said your brother liked running, and then when I found out he was called Tommy, I asked if there was anyone on the running team with a twin called Billy at my school.”

Billy holds his breath.

“There isn’t, apparently, but there _is_ a Tommy who does track and field with this ‘super weird hair’.”

At this, they both glance across the table to Tommy, who is has his arm draped _way_ too casually over the back of the seat, inches from Kate’s shoulders. If they were still opposite each other, Billy would kick him.

“It’s pretty distinctive, right?” Teddy says. “What are the chances?”

Is this happening? Is this _actually_ happening? He _could_ just deny everything, invent a new surname and then grab Tommy and run out of the restaurant, and that is still a slightly appealing idea. On the other hand, he likes Teddy, and he’s feeling kind of brave, and maybe… maybe it could be nice. Maybe this isn’t the world taking a giant dump on his head, for once.

“Lots of people don’t realise we’re twins.” Billy says, focusing intently on making a mobius strip with his straw. “The hair, and stuff. Different surnames.”

“Right,” Teddy says, and his voice is so eager and warm Billy looks up from his straw despite himself. “So, do you think…?”

His last chance to back out. Teddy smiles like he means it and Billy doesn’t want it to stop. “Do you have Pym for Chem too?”

“No _way_.” Teddy sounds so delighted, it’s pretty much worth it. They grin at each other in disbelief.

“That’s crazy.” It’s more than crazy. His favourite guildie, at _school_! They could eat lunch together, walk home together - or, you know, he could watch Billy hide underneath the stairwell, get the crap kicked out of him during gym. Oh, _god_. This was all a terrible, terrible idea. He should have denied everything.

Deep breaths. This isn’t the time for an emotional meltdown.

“How come I’ve never seen you?” Billy pokes Teddy in the shoulder. “I don’t recognise you at all.”

“I’m pretty new.” Teddy shrugs a little awkwardly. “It’s - I moved and didn’t switch schools, and it was getting kind of time consuming travelling all that way, so -” He pulls a face. “It’s a long story.”

Billy has never been more burningly curious in his life, but he nods and says: “Sure, cool.”

“How come you have different surnames?” Teddy says, almost apologetically. “Sorry to ask.”

“Oh, it’s fine.” Billy waves a hand dismissively. “It’s - it’s actually kind of a long story, too.”

“Oh, ok.”

“I’m not just saying that,” Billy laughs, “I know it’s the ultimate cop out, but it’s the truth.”

“I believe you,” Teddy says brightly, “I’m just insufferably nosy.”

“I’ll tell you sometime.” Billy says, and he doesn’t quite know why or what he’s promising. “The epic saga of, uh, our super boring lives.”

“Deal!” Teddy holds out a hand. “There’s this great coffee place round the corner, we should go after school sometime!”

“Wow, how sophisticated.” Billy takes his hand and gives it a tentatively shake. Handshakes have always eluded him. As an effective hermit, all actual human contact is a mystery to him. “I’m clearly not on your level of socialising.”

“Tertiary profession,” Teddy grins, and then winces. “Oh, god- “

“Aha! The nerd surfaces! I knew he was in there somewhere.”

“That was terrible, I apologise.”

Billy is still giggling when Cassie nudges him and slides in beside him. He turns politely back to the main conversation, his elbows bumping awkwardly against Teddy’s.

He probably shouldn’t be registering this level of human contact. It’s pretty pathetic, and he should definitely get out more.

 

*

 

As they disperse at the bus stop, Teddy gives Billy and Tommy an enthusiastic: “see you at school!”, with an added “don’t forget coffee!” at Billy, and disappears round the corner.

Billy feels slightly light-headed.

“That was cool, wasn’t it?” He feels very benevolent towards the world. “Everyone was so nice, and awesome, and-”

“Coffee?” Tommy prods him in the side.

“Huh?”

“You’re getting coffee?”

“Oh, yeah, after school sometime. Because he goes to the same-”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard. So, coffee?”

“Coffee.” Billy repeats, confused. “Yes?”

“Like… a date?”

Billy yelps. “No! Not like a date! It couldn’t possibly - no way! Definitely not a date.”

“Ooo-k.” Tommy flags the bus down, grabbing Billy by the collar and tugging him towards the door.

“That would be weird, it can’t be a date. I mean - it can’t be. That’s so ridiculous, it -”

“Billy.”

“- wouldn’t even make sense - what?”

“Get on the bus.”

“Oh, right. Bus, bus is good.”

“Jesus _christ._ ”

 

*

 

[Guild] [America] : so how were your milkshakes?

[Guild] [Stature] : awesome!!

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : you shouldve come

[Guild] [America] : had stuff to do

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : so mysterious

[Guild] [Stature] : you must come next time!!

[Guild] [Patriot] : they really do make milkshakes any flavour

[Guild] [Hulking] : so awesome, right??

[Guild] [Patriot] : not convinced

[Guild] [Hulking] : boooooo

[Guild] [Wiccan] : I don’t feel I fully took advantage of their extensive menu

[Guild] [Wiccan] : my drinking choices were so mundane

[Guild] [Hulkling] : ahah!

[Guild] [Hulking] : an excuse for another guild outing

[Guild] [Iron Lad] : it was nice to meet everyone

[Guild] [Iron Lad] : put a face to a name

[Guild] [Wiccan] : likewise

[Guild] [Vision] :     :)

[Guild] [Stature] : totally!

[Guild] [Stature] :  we should def do it again sometime

 

*

 

Billy’s tentative optimism as to the Teddy-at-his-school situation soon turns to abject horror. He lies awake on the Sunday night chewing his cuticles, and finally decides on a plan of action.

Teddy must not, under any circumstance, see him at school. Billy must pull out all his disappearing stops and make sure he is never anywhere long enough for Teddy to recognise him.

It’s a big school; it’s not unfeasible, and they’ve managed it thus far. It’s mostly lunchtime that bothers him - he can skulk down the corridors easily enough between class, and he already knows Teddy doesn’t have any lessons with him. It’s the cafeteria that poses the biggest challenge.

So, he skips lunch. Hides in the library reading Snorri Sturluson and snacking on smuggled lunchables between the stacks. The librarian, Ms Foster, pretends not to notice. She even grabs him and brushes crumbs off his collar as he leaves on the second day, and mutters something that sounds an awful lot like: “Please just not over the Faulkes translation; it’s new.”

His new technique means that he inevitably ends up avoiding Tommy, too, however unintended.

He’s returning from his lunchtime hideout on the Wednesday when he finds Tommy leaning against his locker.

“What’s the deal with you missing lunch this week?” He demands.

“I’m studying,” Billy mutters, “I’m really behind.”

“But _lunch_.” Tommy says insistently. Lunch is somewhat sacred to his brother, who can barely go an hour without some food craving or another. “You missed macaroni cheese.”

“I had some dubious cheese, actually.” Billy waves his empty lunchable packet. “It’s, uh, nutritious.”

He nudges Tommy to the left so he can get in his locker, suddenly remembering his usual need for speed on Wednesday afternoons. Kessler has math in this corridor after lunch, and if Billy doesn’t get his books quickly -

Oh, fuck.

“What are _you_ doing here, Shepherd?” Kessler demands, pointing a finger at Tommy in confused venom.

“Talking to my twin brother.” Tommy says coolly, leaning against the lockers in a sterling impression of nonchalance. After Tommy showed up at the beginning of last year, it’s fairly common knowledge that they’re related, though the complexity of their relationship seems to elude most. Billy, for one, is tired of explaining, but Tommy likes to drop the ‘t’ word wherever he can. It’s oddly reassuring, which just about sums up Tommy’s entire presence in Billy’s life.

“Your _twin_?” Kessler says, and barks a short laugh. “Wow.”

Billy tugs at Tommy’s sleeve, _come on, we need to go, like, right now -_

“Yes?” Tommy raises an eyebrow. He’s wearing what Billy recognises as his deadliest expression.

“So it is, like, genetic?”

“Is _what_ genetic?” Tommy’s eyes narrow. Oh, god. Please don’t let this be going there -

“You know...” Kessler grins, and make an obscene gesture.

“Tommy, let’s just-” Billy begins, but his brother waves him off frostily.

“Excuse me?”

“Is it like some messed up Game of Thrones incest thing, or what?”

Kessler looks pretty pleased with himself. To be fair, it was kind of witty, compared to his usual repertoire. Billy rolls his eyes and tugs at Tommy again, but his twin has an absolutely terrifying expression.

“Ha ha,” Billy says bleakly, “dazzling wit, as always. Tommy, let’s _go-_ ”

“Right,” Tommy says, and curls his hands into fists. “ _Right-_ ”

“Tommy, no-”

His brother hurls himself at Kessler, and it would be satisfying, it would be _amazing_ \- if only Billy could just let Tommy beat him to a bloody pulp, but he can’t, he really can’t. He hesitates for a brief moment, savouring the brief sound of Tommy’s fist making contact with Kessler’s nose (god, _what a sound_ ) and then flings himself after them both with a hopeless desperation.

What even is his life? The main source of all his misery is getting mercilessly pummeled and he is trying to prise his brother off, pawing ineffectively at his sweater and trying to haul him away. If Tommy gets caught doing this, he is in huge trouble. He’s not exactly got a clean record. Billy _has_ to stop him, even if there is nothing he wants more than to see Kessler’s face swell up like a balloon. Which is an awful thing to want, and Billy’s mom would definitely tell him he should be ashamed, but - no, _fuck him_.

So he grabs Tommy by the waistband of his jeans, and hauls with all his might, bringing them both flying back into the lockers. Kessler lies on the ground and moans pathetically, which is definitely overkill, because he’s barely even bleeding. (Billy knows about these things, you see.) Tommy wrenches himself out of Billy’s grasp and lunges at him again, which is - of course -  when Dr. Pym decides to venture out from his lab and witness the entire debacle.

 

*

 

They sit wordlessly in the hard plastic seats outside the principal’s office. Kessler isn’t there, he’s lying groaning in the nurse's room, whining pitifully about all the bones Tommy didn’t have time to break. Tommy has a nosebleed, but he’s the _bad kid_ , so he doesn’t get to go to the nurse. He just bleeds sullenly into his sleeve.

Billy searches through his pockets, produces a tissue and offers it. It’s not exactly fresh.

“Did you blow your nose on that?” Tommy eyes it with distaste.

“Something like that.”

“Don’t tell me you used it to-”

“ _Tommy_. I think I spat some gum out in it, or something.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

Tommy sighs, and takes the tissue with a put-upon expression. “Better be.”

“Sorry,” Billy blurts out. He’s not talking about the gum.

“What the hell for?” Tommy says, his voice muffled through the tissue. “Not your fault he’s a dick.”

“I tried -”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tommy mutters, scuffing his shoes on the floor. “Appreciated. It doesn’t matter, though.”

Billy bites his lip. “What did he say?”

“He called Rebecca, she’s on her way.”

“Oh, crap.”

“Yeah.”

A short silence.

“We’ll tell her about Kessler, it wasn’t your fault.” Billy picks at the threads of his sleeve.

“Sure.” Tommy snorts. “Because it works like that.”

“But - he - he said -” Billy splutters. “He called us Lannisters!”

Tommy looks at him incredulously, and they burst into laughter. It’s not even that funny, it’s just a relief from the incredible tension of the entire situation. They latch onto it with enthusiasm and end up clutching their sides helplessly.

Unluckily, they are still laughing when Rebecca arrives, which puts a damper on any sympathy she may have had with them, somewhat.

 

*

 

They drive home in the silence of disgrace. Billy tried to explain the situation, but failed miserably for three reasons: firstly, that he hasn’t really felt like talking to his parents about his sexuality and isn’t about to start now, secondly, he didn’t really feel like getting into the entire, tedious Kessler backstory, and thirdly, his mom has never watched _Game of Thrones_. (She always walks in during the wrong scenes, and as a result, calls it “that awful show.”)

It could be worse, and at least Kessler will be gone for a few days. Billy, painted by Dr Pym as a heroic intervener, is not in trouble with the school, although his mom is furious. Mostly for the helpless laughter they couldn’t seem to shake off. Tommy is suspended, which is better than they could have hoped for, all things considered. His next ‘episode’ was supposed to mean expulsion, but a combination of Rebecca’s measured objections and Billy’s desperate babbling seemed to save the day.

Tommy said nothing. He’s still saying nothing, and it’s only because Billy knows him better than anyone that he can make a wild stab at why. Their bizarre childhood has given them brotherly familiarity, but also the fresh perspective of an outsider. You need both to even attempt unravelling the mysteries of Thomas Shepherd.

Rebecca won’t actually say anything to him, even though she’s visibly furious, gripping the steering wheel far too firmly. She’s always been averse to telling Tommy off. She thinks she’s making it better, but really, she’s just making it worse. Billy has the feeling Tommy would love to be ripped a new one, for once. They’ve never really reached a space comfortable enough for her to feel able to criticise him.

He can’t just let him sit there, staring determinedly out the window, so he leans over and taps him on the shoulder. Tommy gives him a questioning look.

“A Lannister,” Billy mouths silently, “always pays his debts.”

He doesn’t know whether he’s thanking Tommy or threatening Kessler, but it makes his brother smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this totally ridiculous? Do you guys want the rest? xD I have about 20k after this already written (and god knows how much else after that, but I do know vaguely where it's going) and I have no idea if it's even a thing people will want to read so I would love some feedback? This whole chaptered fic thing is a new and scary endeavour. Meeeeeeep!
> 
> Tumble me [here](http://sciencefictionbaby.tumblr.com)!


	2. ii. Specialisation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which threats are made and everyone goes bowling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, for your perusal! I don't imagine I can keep to a weekly schedule long term, but seeing as how I've got a fair amount already written, I figured I may as well be prompt? :)

It’s Thursday. Billy is willing to reconsider his feelings on Thursdays.

Tommy doesn’t respond to Jeff’s repeated bellows up the stairs, evidently having decided if he’s not going into school he may as well reap the benefits, including but not limited to staying in bed until midday. Billy eats his cereal in contemplative silence as his little brothers argue over the free toy. Rebecca is dithering by the doorway about leaving Tommy alone all day, and Jeff is insisting that he’ll be fine, and she’s wringing her hands and altogether completely ignoring Billy, which is a nice change.

Tommy’s planning on gold farming all day, and is unlikely to either want or require supervision. Billy left a six pack of energy drinks outside his door this morning, because he’s a good brother, and also - he’s paying it forward. 

It’s a little weird going to school without Tommy, despite having done it for the first ten years of his school life. He sits with his feet up on the spare bus seat and tries not to think too hard about the implications of a Kessler-free Thursday. 

It’s even weirder walking down the corridor to hear people whispering about him. Well - whispering about Tommy, in all likelihood, probably due to all the punching he did yesterday and his resulting absence. Billy has a brief, bizarre moment where he hopes the rumours lose their clarity somewhere along the way. He wouldn’t mind people thinking he’d punched Kessler. It’s nice to think he would actually have the _nerve_.

He’s clammy and nervous despite everything when the bell rings for gym, but his cautious optimism rings semi-true. He still gets picked last, and he still makes a tool of himself, but it’s a low key foolishness, with no particular repercussions. Summers still shoves him into the wall with his shoulder, but only because he’s walking past, and without much real feeling. Billy will take that. 

And then, it’s _over_ , and Billy half expects a musical number to start in the corridor, with extras popping out of lockers with matching umbrellas. He has to forcibly restrain himself from dancing all the way back from gym doing his very best Gene Kelly. (Which is, by the way, very good. _Well._ It’s enthusiastic.)

This all goes some way towards explaining exactly why Billy throws caution to the winds, strolls down the corridor like he hasn’t a care in the world, and finds himself standing behind a blonde-haired boy swearing at his combination lock.

(Yes, he did some super-sleuthing and figured out where his locker was. That’s totally a normal thing to do. This is how friends behave.)

“Hi Teddy,” Billy says, and his bravado leaves him somewhat after the first syllable, with the rest coming out slightly squeaky. Teddy whips round in surprise.

“Hey!” He flashes him a ridiculously dazzling smile. Disney princess white, for god’s sake. He’s just obscene. He probably leans out the window singing duets with birds in his spare time, or does his laundry with a bunch of assorted critters. He probably nurses baby animals back to health at the weekends, and - “Where’ve you been all week? I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“Oh, you know,” Billy says, wrenching himself back into some semblance of reality. “I probably had prowl on, or, um.” He winces. “Uh.”

Teddy just grins. “That explains it.”

“Is this going to be a theme of our IRL friendship? Taking it in turns to make bad gaming references and regretting them instantly?” Billy grins back, tries not to start panicking that he dared to refer to whatever this as as a ‘friendship’.

“I hope so,” Teddy says solemnly, and Billy can’t help but laugh. “I’ve been working on a few-”

“Oh, please. Go on.”

“Well, it’s lunchtime, so, er - um, something about a food buff?” 

Billy snort so loudly that a passing student shies away from him in alarm. He briefly worries that he’s being an embarrassment, but Teddy doesn’t seem to have noticed. He’s laughing and cramming his books into his locker haphazardly, and he doesn't look remotely embarrassed to be seen with Billy. Evidently, he’s an idiot, which bodes well for Billy’s purposes.

“Are they are all that good?”

“It was short notice! I didn’t have time to prepare properly!” Teddy protests, the tips of his ears pink.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s always Tommy’s excuse, too.”

“Where _is_ Tommy?” Teddy says, frowning at the disorderly heap of books in his locker. It’s a disgrace, Billy notes, and it makes him feel a little bit better. Had they been organised neatly and efficiently he may well have just grabbed Teddy by the shoulders and screamed “HOW ARE YOU EVEN REAL” in his face. As it is, he is able to contain himself. Hopefully.

“Oh, yeah, he’s -” Billy smirks, “- actually, he’s probably jewelcrafting right now.”

“Huh?” 

“He was suspended.” Billy half-grins, half-shrugs, and his shoulders twinge from where they hit the floor yesterday. He’s going to miss that part out of any tale he may or may not regale Teddy with. “So he’s probably spamming the trade channel, eating donuts, and not wearing pants.”

“What an image.” Teddy says dryly, closing his locker. “What’d he get suspended for?”

Billy does his best to sound utterly bored by the whole situation. “Bloodshed, pretty much. The usual.” 

Teddy looks curious, and Billy panics. He doesn’t want to talk about Kessler, not today. Today is his Kessler-free Thursday, and he’s talking to his really awesome friend _in real life_ and Kessler can fuck off.

“So, do you want to grab lunch?” He babbles. “It’s pizza today, I think. Something really nutritious, anyway.”

“I wish I could,” Teddy says, pulling a face. “I have a chemistry study group.”

“Oh,” Billy says, because what else can he really say? He can’t help feeling a little crestfallen. Do study groups at lunch even _happen_? Is he being blown off? “That sucks.”

“Tell me about it.” Teddy sighs melodramatically. “We won’t even get to burn stuff.”

Well, he _sounds_ sincere, so Billy risks a cautious smile. “Wherein lies the entire point of chemistry.”

“Exactly,” Teddy says, and he flashes Billy another of those stupid smiles. “But we should totally do coffee, right?”

“Totally!” Billy enthuses, and hopes he doesn’t sound over-eager. He tries to stand more casually (how do you even do that?) and attempts to take it down a notch. “How about after school?”

“Sounds great!” Teddy says, as he starts to walk down the corridor. “Meet you back here at half three?”

Billy waves idiotically after him. “Sure!”

Maybe he’s not being blown off, after all. If _that_ doesn’t call for a musical number, he doesn’t know what does.

 

*

 

[Speed] whispers: spending lunchtime in the computer room i see

To [Speed]: just checking my auctions

To [Speed]: could you tell mom I’ll be a bit late home

[Speed] whispers: sure

To [Speed]: I should be back before 6 though

[Speed] whispers: whats the occasion

To [Speed]: I’m trying this ‘social life’ thing

To [Speed]: it comes highly recommended

[Speed] whispers: are you having ‘coffee’

To [Speed]: yes

To [Speed]: also 

To [Speed]: please don’t put my social life in inverted commas

To [Speed]: how did you know I was getting coffee 

To [Speed]: also shut up

[Speed] whispers: i’ll tell your mom youre meeting strange men from the internet

To [Speed]: tommy no

To [Speed]: are you being serious

To [Speed]: she’ll believe you tommy don’t you dare say that

To [Speed]: TOMMY

[Speed] whispers: relax

[Speed] whispers: I got this

To [Speed]: how reassuring 

 

*

 

Ok. So.

Billy might need to reassess the situation a little. The situation being that the tank of his dreams might also be, um, the boy of his dreams, cheesy as that sounds. Which is either life being incredibly efficient or incredibly cruel. (He suspects the latter, given his track record, but he keeps having these hopeless rushes of optimism, which can’t end well.) 

I mean, _god_. It’s hard enough finding a tank that pulls in accordance with your healing technique, nevermind one with a smile like rainbows and baby unicorns. Who buys you the exact right coffee without even asking. 

Baby _fucking_ unicorns, did he mention that?

“I love the coffee here,” Teddy is saying enthusiastically, “even if it does mean I won’t sleep for a week.”

“Nate would like that.” Billy takes a sip. “We’d get so much done.”

“Yeah.” Teddy rolls his eyes. “Best not mention it.”

What was it he’d said, about getting coffee? There was definitely an implication there that they’d talk about things, share some personal stuff. He hopes so, anyway, because he has never been more desperately curious about anyone in his life. 

“The coffee here is great, by the way.” Billy says, nodding eagerly. 

“I know, right?”

“I feel like a proper adult, going for coffee.”

“Should we talk about the weather?” Teddy teases. “Or maybe the price of gas?”

“Well, I don’t know about gas, but Golden Lotus is up on our realm right now.” Billy says.

“Good to know.”

“I’m undercutting everyone, it’s brilliant.” He gives Teddy a thumbs up.

Teddy laughs and blows into his mug. “So you’re an evil economics mastermind, wow. Who knew?”

“It’s not evil, it’s the free market,” Billy says in mock indignation. “Er, sort of.”

Teddy needs to stop laughing and indulging his stupid conversation if he’s ever going to resolve this ridiculous situation. He also needs to get a new face, because - yeah. His face just looks like the kind that’s going to ruin Billy’s life. All nice and attractive and friendly and stuff. _God_.

“So,” Teddy says, “Tommy was spilling the blood of innocent youths?” Billy takes a brief moment to enjoy the curiosity written so obviously all over Teddy’s face.

“Well, hardly innocent,” Billy snorts, before he can stop himself. “But - yeah, blood was spilled. Vengeance was his, etcetera etcetera.”

“Why?”

“Some guy was being a dick.” Billy shrugs. He nearly laughs at the casual distillation of his entire life; he makes it sound painfully simple. “Tommy has history with the whole punching thing, so it didn’t go down well with the powers that be.” 

“He does have a bit of a reputation,” Teddy says, very carefully, casting Billy a nervous look. “I’ve heard some things.”

Billy laughs. “Yeah, well, some of them are even true. Or sort of true.”

“He’s not been here long?” Teddy gives Billy a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, I’m being crazy nosy-”

“No, really, it’s fine! I just - I don’t know where to start, really.” Billy chews his lip thoughtfully. “Tommy only transferred the beginning of last year, which is when he moved to live with my family permanently. I mean, the Kaplans. Not my biological family.”

“So you’re... adopted?” Teddy says, his tone apologetic. It’s the way everyone asks; like they’re worried they’re opening up a can of worms. He nods back at Teddy with what he hopes is a happy smile, tries to look like a posterchild for a fulfilling adoptive childhood. Complicated isn’t always bad, and he just wishes he could articulate that properly.

“Yeah.” Billy finds himself flicking his eyes awkwardly between his coffee and Teddy as the logistics of eye contact suddenly become mysterious and confusing. “We were two, I think - we were supposed to be placed together but the Shepherds only wanted Tommy, so the Kaplans took me.” 

“Hence the surnames.”

“Yeah, Tommy just kept Shepherd, it was easier.” Billy taps the edge of his cup. “Although, he was never technically adopted by the Kaplans, so I’m not sure he could change even if he wanted? I dunno.”

“But… he’s living with you?” Teddy sounds confused, and Billy doesn’t blame him.

“It’s complicated,” he says, and it’s his turn to be apologetic. It should be their family motto. They should get it in Latin and engrave it on a shield so they can proudly hang it on the kitchen wall. _Est Complicadum_. That’s probably not real Latin. Whatever. Their sigil could be a slowpoke. 

“Tell me about it.” Teddy sounds a bit fatigued. “Families are.”

“We kept in touch with the Shepherds, so I saw Tommy a lot growing up. It didn’t really work out for them.” Billy frowns at his coffee; the Shepherds never fail to piss him off. “Tommy got into trouble and when he was thirteen he blew up- er, long story short, it didn’t work out. My mom bailed him out of juvie and he’s been living with us ever since. Unofficially.”

“Wow.”

Billy laughs breathlessly. “Yeah.”

“And you’re… not identical?”

“I guess we can’t be,” Billy says thoughtfully, dredging up half-forgotten memories of taking notes on zygotes, “but aside from the hair, we _do_ look pretty much the same, right?”

“Not really.” Teddy muses, and Billy gives a little start. Teddy shrugs sheepishly. “I just mean, um. Your noses are different, and stuff.”

“Yeah?” Billy prods his nose, trying to conjure up a decent mental image of Tommy and compare them properly. “How?”

“Boopability?” Teddy says, and he leans back in his chair grinning. “Not that I’ve been assessing your nose for its booping potential, or anything-”

“Creeper.” Billy teases, trying desperately not to blush. Or demand to know if his nose is better and more boopable. Which would be totally ridiculous, but _wow_ does he want to know. “My eyes are up here.”

Teddy rolls his eyes, but looks, for a brief moment, somewhat uncomfortable. Time to backpedal furiously, then. He can punch himself in the face for his idiocy later.

“I guess I look more like my mom than Tommy  does,” Billy says, changing the subject as quickly as he can. “Our biological mom, I mean.”

“So, you know your biological parents?” Teddy says eagerly. 

“That,” Billy says wearily, “is a whole other story. And it is _definitely_ your turn.” He congratulates himself on his deviousness; withholding information to secure a future coffee date, whilst also turning the conversation to Teddy in one fell swoop. Maybe he is an evil mastermind. 

“My turn?” Teddy cheeks turn pink. It’s rather endearing. 

“How come you transferred here?” Billy jabs an accusatory finger at him. “Spill.”

“Well,” Teddy says slowly, “I started living with my aunt about six months ago, and the commute to my old school was killer, so they let me transfer here.”

Billy’s not the only one distilling things, clearly. “Your aunt?”

“Well, she’s not actually my aunt. It’s just, you know, one of those family friends. I think she worked with my dad. She’s a pilot and she’s awesome.” Teddy shares a private smile with his coffee. “You should meet her.” 

“How come you’re living with her?” Billy should probably apologise for the barrage of questions, but he is so intently curious he can’t help himself.

“My mom is sick,” Teddy says very matter of factly, but there’s a trace of sadness in there that breaks Billy’s heart, “and it made more sense for me to live with my aunt.”

Billy wrestles with the urge to do something intrusive and ridiculous like squeeze Teddy’s hand, fiddling instead with the pot of sugar packets. “Your dad?” 

“Oh, he’s not, um,” Teddy is still looking very intently at his coffee. “He died when I was little. So, yeah.”

“I’m sorry.” Billy says, feeling instantly awful. “Your mom, is she in hospital, or…?”

“In and out.” Teddy shrugs. “I just... want to make things easier for her.”

“Well,” Billy says, because he’s desperate just to see Teddy smile again, “ _I’m_ glad you transferred.”

Was that too cheesy? Billy starts to panic, but Teddy just beams like he’s never been happier. 

“Appreciated.”

 

*

 

The minute he’s through the door his mom is _there_ , smiling so wide and looking so delighted Billy can’t help but be wary. 

“Billy! Did you have fun?”

Behind her, Tommy is grinning. Billy shuts the door slowly behind him, trying to gauge the situation.

“Um, yeah?”

“That’s so lovely,” his mom says, sounding strangely delighted, “I think joining the Glee Club was a brilliant idea, such a great way to make new friends.”

“Right.” Billy keeps his voice as deadpan as possible and levels his best death stare at Tommy. “The Glee Club.”

“Maybe you could give us a performance later?” Tommy says. “I’d love to hear you sing.”

“I’d rather not, actually.” Billy says through gritted teeth. “If you don’t mind.”

“Oh, I insist-”

“I’m so proud of you, darling,” his mom says, ruffling his hair. “I think it’s great that you’re being proactive.”

“Thanks, mom. I guess.”

She kisses the top of his head and bustles off. At least she’s happy.

He turns on Tommy the moment she’s gone.

“Are you _kidding_ me?”

Tommy smiles innocently. “Reusable excuses are the best ones. Trust me, I’m doing you a favour.”

“This is the opposite of a favour!” Billy hisses. “This is _nothing like_ a favour! If she makes me sing-”

“Oh, relax. How was your date?”

“ _It wasn’t a date_.”

“Sure.” Tommy rolls his eyes. “So you split the bill evenly, then?”

Billy ignores him, and starts taking his coat and shoes off with - what he imagines is - quiet dignity.

“Did _he_ pay?” Tommy sounds positively gleeful.

“I - he - _Tommy_.”

“Did you gaze longingly into each other’s eyes over your lattes?”

“Would you stop being ridiculous?” Billy snaps, flushing slightly. (As if he would drink a latte, honestly.)

“For taking an interest in my brother’s love life?” Tommy clasps a hand to his chest. “I’m wounded.”

“No, for pretending I _have_ a love life. It’s very cruel.”

Tommy grins widely and points at him dramatically. “Ahah! So you _do_ hope it was a date!”

“That’s not what I - I didn’t-” Billy splutters. “Tommy-”

“You pretty much did, though.”

“How old are you? _Jesus_.”

“ _Billy and Teddy, sitting in a treeeee_ , K - I - S -”

He didn’t _mean_ to make Tommy start bleeding all over again, he only wanted to shut him up with a vague swat to the face.

Billy rushes him to the bathroom and pinches Tommy’s nose as he leans over the sink bleeding mournfully, but yet somehow - triumphantly. How he manages to make a nosebleed seem smug, Billy will never know.

“Id wab tobally a dabe,” Tommy mumbles, and Billy pretends not to hear, scowling and shoving tissues in his direction.

His brother; ever the optimist.

(If he stands next to Tommy and compares their noses in the mirror, no one ever need know.)

 

*

 

Billy never knows what to wear to these things. He never knows what to wear to _anything_ , it just feels like he should make more of an effort in these particular instances. He frowns at his wardrobe, eventually grabbing a red hoodie because Wanda said she liked red, that one time. It’s clean, and he hasn’t chewed holes in the sleeves yet. That’s smart enough, right?

He taps on the thin wall three times in quick succession. One tap back. Freaky twin stuff, he thinks, with a wry smile. Three taps generally means: “are you ready”/”are you awake” - the meaning made obvious by the context of the tapping. The reply is one to five taps, with five signifying “fuck off and let me sleep”/”not at all ready”, and one meaning “very awake”/”ready very soon”, with varying stages of each signified by the in-between taps. Silence generally signifies the blissful ignorance of unconsciousness.

Billy perches on the edge of his bed and bites his nails while he waits.

 

*

 

Saturdays have always been family time, and sit-down meals, it’s just that now, sometimes they mean _biological_ family time. The Kaplans do their thing together, and Tommy and Billy take the bus downtown to meet with Wanda. It sits kind of weird with everyone, but in the ok way - in the way of an ever expanding family trying to sort out how everything works. Maybe they’ll even get there one day.

Wanda opens the door with a smile.

"Hi Wanda. Mom," Billy babbles, messing up his greeting as usual because he just can't figure out what feels right to call her.

"Hey, mom," Tommy says, as always his perfect foil as he bends down to kiss her on the cheek. If it was easier for him, it’s because other things were harder, and Billy can’t begrudge him that in the slightest.

"Boys," she says fondly, gesturing for them to come in. "I hope you're hungry." The gentle lilt of her accent always catches Billy off-guard, familiar and unfamiliar, all at once. He wonders if he would have had it, if things had gone differently.

"Can I help?" Billy gesture vaguely towards the kitchen. "I can chop things? Or, um."

"That would be lovely." Wanda smiles. “Thank you, Billy."

It's something he would never have done when they first met. Now they know each other better, now that he feels a little more like her son, he likes those little moments after missing so many years and opportunities. He thinks it's the same for her.

"The carrots would be really helpful," she says.

"Sure." Billy locates a peeler and grabs a seat at the table. The first time he couldn’t find where she kept the utensils, and had been too embarrassed to do anything about it, and had just sort of hovered awkwardly by the counter getting increasingly panicky. It wasn’t until she laughed that he even acknowledged it. He was so awkward - _everything_ was so awkward. He never expected to meet his birth parents. It’s not the kind of thing there’s a Yahoo answer to.

(If you can’t google it, Billy can’t deal with it. Fact.)

“How’s school?” Wanda says, and she tilts her head sideways knowingly. Because that’s just Billy’s luck, having not one - but _two_ \- psychic moms. 

“Fine.” Billy says, peeling the carrots a little more aggressively. He decides to go for the slightly dirty tactic of dropping his brother in it and thus relieving the pressure on him. “Tommy’s suspended, though.” 

Wanda sighs, concerned but not exactly surprised. “What did he do?”

Billy is hit with a rush of remorse. “It wasn’t his fault,” he mutters, “he was just trying to defend my honor, or something.”

Wanda hums, adjusts something on the stove. “And does your honor need defending?”

“No.” Billy huffs, chopping with feeling. “Maybe.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Billy shrugs miserably. A good son would open up, a good son would tell her everything, a good son wouldn’t be having these problems in the first place-

“Alright,” Wanda says smoothly, “Then let’s talk about your new guild.”

Billy blinks at her. “Huh?” He hasn’t mentioned the Young Avengers to Wanda, for various reasons.

“Tommy said you’d both joined a local guild,” Wanda holds out a tray, indicating he should put the carrots in. “He said you all met up last Saturday.”

“Yeah,” Billy says, and he’s disproportionately pleased to find he actually has one area of his life that he’s happy to talk about. “It was pretty cool, actually, it turns out one of them goes to our school, so we went for coffee and-”

He stops dead at Wanda’s expression, which speaks volumes of things that she is _absolutely not allowed to think_.

“Go on.” 

“What _exactly_ did Tommy tell you?” Billy demands, brandishing a carrot in her direction.

She laughs. “Nothing, nothing. Can’t I just be curious about my son’s life?”

She is lying. She is _definitely_ lying and Tommy has _definitely_ told her he went on a _date_ and he has never been more mortified in his entire life and it’s not even _true_.

“No, you can’t,” Billy mutters, sheepishly withdrawing his carrot. Wanda just laughs again.

And then, Billy’s not just mortified, but miserable, because Wanda knows something Rebecca doesn’t, and he still hasn’t figured out when he should feel guilty, and if he should feel guilty, and he hates Tommy for putting him in this position. 

His brother never had the Kaplans, and so it’s never been the same for him. He was drawn to Wanda immediately, and they are much, much closer than Billy and her. That’s ok. It’s just difficult. Billy had a whole, functioning family, complete with two little brothers and a full set of loving parents, and Tommy had that second hand, at best. Wanda’s amazing - she’s kind and humble and has been so understanding and respectful from the start of this confusing relationship, and Billy's just been a total mess.

"Hey," she says gently, reaching out to squeeze his arm. "I think it's wonderful you're making friends."

He gives her a wobbly smile.

"Come on." Wanda gestures toward the door. "Let's say hello to everyone."

 

*

 

In Wanda’s front room, perched on various chairs and sofa, are the Avengers, more or less. 

If Billy’s guild could seem them right now, their jaws would be hitting the floor - wherein lies the problem. He wasn’t lying when he told Teddy the story of his biological parents was a long one, but he has other motives for keeping his silence.

The Avengers are pretty much _the_ guild of their server -  a strange phenomenon of their niche virtual culture. They get all the realm firsts, they are _never_ recruiting - and everyone basically wishes they were even half as cool. They are all kinds of lovely and respectful, but they have a minor attitude problem when it comes to other guilds. For all their benevolence, they have intimidated nearly every major guild in their realm out of existence.

Billy likes them, but that _sucks_. When Nate found him online and shared similar thoughts, he signed up before he even thought about it. Hence the birth of the Young Avengers, part homage and part challenge.

Of course, the problem is that his biological mom is a valued member of said guild. When she moved here to be closer to them and found herself lonely and frustrated, she and Pietro - that is, Billy’s uncle - started playing online games, and it all went from there, really. She got him and Tommy into playing, and it’s working wonders for everyone, it would seem. Billy has a bunch of new friends, and Wanda’s living room is proof that online friendships aren’t something to be sniffed at.

On the sofa are Clint and Natasha, playing the most aggressive game of Words with Friends Billy has ever seen. Clint moved servers a while back and Kate took his username - she’d been after it for a while. When he switched back, he did not take kindly to being a hunter usurped, and Kate has since been suspiciously ganked on various occasions. Nothing they can actually link back to Clint conclusively, but it’s not exactly a mystery. Kate recruited Billy - the altoholic that he is - for her ‘response team’, which involves a lot of stun-locking and cackling over chat. He gets sweaty palms around Clint, these days. Hopefully he’ll never figure out it was _Billy_.

Natasha is the rogue Tommy will never be and he is endearingly reverent around her. She’s also the most terrifying person Billy has ever met, in the most flattering sense possible. She’s great.

Setting up the table with a conscientious frown as he straighten the napkins is Steve, guild leader in all but name. The man getting in his way and reeling off a neverending ream of statistics is Tony, who purchased the original charter and doggedly insists _he_ is the guild leader. They all let him think this.

At the far end of the table, Bruce and Hank are having an extremely dignified game of checkers, at least outwardly.

He catches sight of Tommy, practically bouncing up and down as he babbles at their uncle, similarly white-haired. Pietro is looking pointedly - but very elegantly - bored. Biting back a grin, he goes to join them.

“Hey, uncle P,” he says, and Pietro continues to look thoroughly unimpressed. ‘Uncle P’ is an invention of Tommy’s, born of an incredibly passive aggressive Monopoly game and some belligerent Shepherd-Kaplan real estate acquisition. It stuck, and Pietro seems to hates it. He’s never actually _said_ that he hates it, however, and Tommy insists they keep using it until he actually voices his disapproval. 

Billy likes nicknames. It makes you feel like you’re part of something.

“Billy.” Pietro inclines his head slightly towards him. It’s a step up from ‘William’, anyway.

“Billy!” Tommy flashes him a brilliant grin. “Care to join us?” He holds out a pack of cards with an elaborate flourish. “Texas hold ‘em, we can play for oreos.”

Pietro rolls his eyes, but snatches the cards from Tommy’s grasp before he can even deal them.

“We’ll play for _money_ ,” he says curtly, and Tommy’s grin gets even wider. “And don’t tell your mother.”

Every family needs at _least_ one uncle who’s a bad influence. It’s basically mandatory.

 

*

 

It takes a lot of fussing on Wanda’s part, but eventually dinner is served and everyone is crowded round the slightly too small table, fighting over various serving implements and knocking elbows in good natured frustration.

Tony is, to no one’s surprise, completely ignoring his food in favour of frowning at his phone.

“Carrots?” Wanda says politely. 

He ignores her. “Are you fucking _kidding_ me?”

Wanda looks nonplussed. “Peas?” 

“Steve, that _fucking_ camper is undercutting me on-”

“There’s nothing wrong with undercutting!” Billy barks, and everyone turns to give him a mixture of perplexed and amused looks. Tommy snorts. “It’s basic supply and demand!” He can feel his face getting hot. “If supply increases-”

“I know how economics works, kiddo,” Tony waves an impatient hand, “but this ‘Loki’ fucker-” 

Oh, _god_. Billy can’t even bring himself to look vaguely in Tommy’s direction.

“Language.” Wanda says, wearily. “Anyone else for carrots?”

“Him again.” Steve frowns. “I suppose camping in itself isn’t exactly prohibited.”

“Bot runner if ever I saw one.” Tony is stabbing at his phone’s keypad furiously. “I swear to God, I will _prove it_ , and I will have him kicked out so hard-”

“So report him.”

“- by _twenty_ gold, what’s that? Forty percent? _Jesus_. ”

“He’ll collapse the market.”

“ _How does that even benefit him?_ ” Tony howls, as Wanda spoons peas determinedly onto his plate. “What’s in it for him?”

That’s Loki for you, Billy thinks. Why they’re still bothering with him in one of the great mysteries of life. 

“Like I said-” Steve says sedately, “Peas would be lovely, Wanda, thank you  - report him.”

“You know who he is, right?” Tony eyes the peas with distaste. “He’s one of those Young Avengers lot. The tweens with the attitude.”

Billy does his very best impression of polite disinterest, made only slightly harder by the way Tommy kicks his shin under the table. It hurts quite a bit, so he kicks him back for good measure.

“Oh, the fan group?” Wanda says mildly. “They seemed sweet.”

“Hmm.” 

“Are they a problem?

“Look, I’m flattered and all,” Steve says, sounding pretty much exactly the opposite, “but we already set something up to let youngsters get involved.”

 _Patronising bullshit_ , Billy thinks. He stares determinedly at his carrots.

“You did?”

“Yeah, the Avengers Academy is for exactly this-”

Pietro lets out a long-suffering groan. 

“- and we can’t have a bunch of kids abusing our brand like this.”

“Your _brand_?” Tommy rolls his eyes, and Billy jabs at his side under the table. _Stop drawing attention to us_.

“Yes, our brand.” Steve frowns at him, his expression defensive. “The revenue from the ads on Scarlet’s blog alone is significant enough to warrant-”

“ _Steve_.” Wanda sounds as close to annoyed as Billy has ever seen her. “They’re just having fun, playing a _game_ in their spare time. Like we all are.”

“Hmm,” Steve says, giving his carrots a pensive look. “Well, I’m going to have a word with them.”

“ _Steve_ ,” Wanda repeats, and she’s definitely being stern this time. 

He smiles up at her. “I’m sure we can work this out, maybe absorb them into the programme somehow. I’m sure they’re good kids, but we can’t have them running around like this. ”

Billy and Tommy exchange a dubious look. 

Oh, boy.

 

*

 

To [Loki]: you need to stop botting RIGHT NOW or you are out

[Loki] whispers: I don’t think that’s your decision, somehow.

To [Loki]: I’m sure nate will back me up

To [Loki]: BECAUSE YOU ARE BOTTING

[Loki] whispers: I doubt you can prove that.

To [Loki]: actually yeah

To [Loki]: I know a guy

To [Loki]: anyway

To [Loki]:  how about you just stop seeing as how it’s illegal and all

[Loki whispers: What does it even matter?

To [Loki]: uhhhh it matters

To [Loki]: we cant be seen to have someone botting

[Loki] whispers: We can’t be seen to be botting by whom, exactly? 

[Loki] whispers: The Avengers?

To [Loki]: well yeah

[Loki] whispers: Interesting.

To [Loki]: I dont know if you noticed 

To [Loki]: but we are kind of called the young avengers

[Loki] whispers: Of course, why do you think I joined?

To [Loki]: to be a pain in my ass?

[Loki] whispers: You should be so lucky

To [Loki]: excuse me??

[Loki] whispers: I’m sure the Avengers would be shocked and horrified to have a fan guild doing something as heinous as simply speeding up an extremely tedious process

[Loki] whispers: I’m also sure they’d be shocked and horrified to find one of its keystone members is none other than William Kaplan

[Loki] whispers: son of Wanda Maximoff, a valued founding member of the Avengers

To [Loki]: how the hell do you know that

[Loki] whispers: Terrible response, Billy. You’ve only confirmed everything I said.

[Loki] whispers: Just for future reference, if you’re being accused of something.

To [Loki]: how do you know that??

[Loki] whispers: I know a guy.

To [Loki]: FUNNY

To [Loki]: ok so yeah I’ve not told them

To [Loki]: that’s irrelevant as to whether or not you should be botting

To [Loki]: also, really fucking creepy, by the way

To [Loki]: you know what, screw this, I’m telling Nate to kick you anyway

[Loki] whispers: I don’t want to do this, Billy.

To [Loki]: do what??

[Loki] whispers: The guild would be quite hurt to find out you’ve been keeping this from them, wouldn’t they?

To [Loki]: you wouldnt.

[Loki] whispers: I really would. 

To [Loki]: that is MY business

To [Loki]: I’ll discuss it with them when I’m ready

[Loki] whispers: I think Hulkling would be especially upset to hear it from me.

To [Loki]: ohhhhhHHHOOOOHHH fuck you

[Loki] whispers: It doesn’t have to play out that way, Billy.

[Loki] whispers: I could keep it to myself.

[Loki] whispers: If you keep any suspicions you may or may not have to yourself.

To [Loki]: this is blackmail, you know that

[Loki] whispers: Well, yes. That’s sort of the point.

To [Loki]: urgh you’re gross

[Loki] whispers: Don’t be like that!

[Loki] whispers: I like you, Billy. I don’t want to do this! You forced my hand.

To [Loki]: well I don’t like you

To [Loki]: URGH

To [Loki]: well could you at least be a bit more subtle about it

[Loki] whispers: I’m streamlining my process.

To [Loki]: well that’s comforting

[Loki] whispers: So we have an agreement?

To [Loki]: we can agree you are an asshole

To [Loki]: YES we do uuurrurgrghghghrgh

[Loki] whispers: I’m glad we could work this out!

To [Loki]: oh fuck off

_Wiccan has gone offline._

 

*

 

Another week without Tommy, without Kessler. Billy would feel bad for enjoying it if his brother wasn’t so evidently having a pretty chill time not being at school. If anything, he’s almost jealous.

It does mean lunchtime alone, though, which is fine, if a little boring. He takes the same table as always, and no one challenges him for it. He mostly just reads.

“Hi!”

At first, Billy assumes he’s overhearing something meant for someone else, and ignores it. It’s only when someone starts tapping insistently on the spine of his book that he finally frowns over the top of the pages.

“Good book, huh?”

Billy tries his best not to look like a startled rabbit, but judging by Teddy’s half bitten-back grin, fails utterly. 

“Want some chips?” Teddy pushes his tray towards him, and affects a stern expression, eyebrows furrowing. “Did you even get anything?”

“Yes, mom,” Billy quips, and puts his book down carefully, avoiding the ketchup stains. What _did_ he eat? “I think I had a sandwich?”

“Must be a good book.” Teddy reaches for it. “What is-”

“It’s boring!” Billy yelps, “I wouldn’t bother-” 

He tries to slap his hand down on top of it but Teddy is - of course - faster, so he ends up swatting weakly at Teddy’s wrist. He reaches over for a chip instead, as if that had always been his intention. Smooth as fuck, that’s Billy Kaplan.

Teddy rolls his eyes and flips the book over.

“ _Billy_.”

“Yeah?”

“You do remember how we met, right?”

“Sure,” Billy blinks. “Online.”

“Pretending to be a bear.”

Billy grins unsurely. “Were you in bear form? I thought-”

Teddy rolls his eyes again. It seems to be something Billy just inspires in people. “Look, whatever. My point is, you _know_ that I’m a massive loser.”

Billy stuffs another chip into his mouth to mask his confusion. “You… are?”

“I’m not going to _laugh_ at you for reading something nerdy.” Teddy gives him this intensely earnest look that makes Billy want to hurl himself out the nearest window screaming and run at least fifteen miles. “You know that, right?”

“Right.” Billy echoes. Teddy is still looking at him with a slightly wounded expression. “No, it’s just, uh. Habit.” 

Teddy seems satisfied at that, flicks through the book. “What’s a havamal?”

“It’s an Old Norse poem.” He fidgets, picking at his nails. “Kinda... Odin giving life advice.”

“Not that I’m an expert,” Teddy says, “but isn’t Odin kind of a dick?”

“Well, yeah.” Billy snorts. “But if he wrote self-help books, they’d probably be pretty solid.”

“Sound financial investment.” Teddy says, very solemnly. Billy fights the urge to giggle. “My mom loves them, she has, like - a _hundred_ or something stupid.” 

Billy stays encouragingly silent, hoping for more to follow about Teddy and his mysterious mom. Nothing does. Ok, then.

“Well,” he says, pointing at the book still in Teddy’s hands, “I’m not sure this is up her street, unless she’s looking for proper mead hall etiquette.”

Teddy grins at that, and casts the book another curious look. “Still no Tommy?”

“Alas, no,” Billy reaches for another chip. He’s not even hungry, he’s just power-mad. Teddy is his _friend_. They are _eating lunch together_ and he has permission to _take a chip whenever he wants_. He is drunk on the power of salty snack appropriation. “We’re spared his wit for another day.”

“Do you guys usually eat together?”

“Sure, I guess,” Billy says, his mouth dry. “Or whoever’s about.”

The empty table probably speaks for itself.

If Teddy picks up on how much Billy wants to sink into the floor and never resurface, he shows no sign of it. “I tried to find you last week, but you weren’t with Tommy. Who ate - like, half my lunch without even asking, by the way.”

“Sounds like him.” Billy says automatically, before doing a swift double-take. “Hang on - he never said he saw you-”

“He said you were hiding.” Teddy raises an eyebrow, waits a beat. “From me.”

Billy freezes like the rabbit in the headlight that he is. Teddy waits, his face patient but not completely impassive. He looks a little hurt.

“I,” Billy starts, then clamps his mouth shut. “Why would he say that? Wow, I hate him.”

“So,” Teddy says slowly, eyebrows knitting together, “you _were_ hiding from me?”

“No!” Billy says firmly, then winces. “Ok, a _tiny_ bit, but it’s nothing personal, I _swear_.” He tries his best to meet Teddy’s concerned gaze. “I’m just a social disaster, I was hiding from everyone.” They meet each other’s eyes for a few seconds, then Teddy looks away.

“Ok,” Teddy says, more to his coke than to Billy. “It’s just, he said- nevermind.”

“He said _what_?” Billy leans forward, furious. “ _Tell me_.”

Teddy looks up, startled, and laughs. “Brothers are funny.”

“We’re not brothers, Teddy, we’re _mortal enemies_ , and I need all the information I can to _take him down._ ” Billy slams his fist onto the table to illustrate his point, but Teddy only laughs more.

“Nevermind.” Teddy shakes his head, smiling. “I’m just checking that you don’t... secretly hate me, or something.”

“No!” Billy yelps, and this is probably the dictionary definition of coming on too strong, but he slaps his hand down on Teddy’s before he remembers what a terrible idea that is. “No! Definitely not, I don’t hate you! We’re friends!” He jerks his hand back and stares at it in mild horror. “We are friends, right?” 

“Yes.” Teddy says, and he looks like he’s about to laugh - which is quickly becoming a familiar expression to Billy. “We’re friends.” His eyes are warm and he sounds like he means it and Billy grins back at him like the total idiot he definitely is.

“Well, good.” Billy says. “Because I ate all your chips.”

 

*

 

Billy throws the door open to Tommy’s bedroom before he remembers the likelihood of Tommy being in a state of undress. Thankfully, Tommy has made an effort at putting clothes on today. That is, he’s wearing boxers and a shirt and is eating chocolate spread from the jar with breadsticks and watching youtube videos of babies eating lemons.

“Oh, hey-”

“ _You_.” Billy thunders, and Tommy quails slightly, raising a breadstick defensively.

“Billy?”

“What did you tell Teddy?” Billy demands, and Tommy immediately relaxes and starts laughing.

“Oh, _that_. I was wondering if he’d mention it.” Tommy looks at the breadstick thoughtfully before sticking it in the jar. “ _Interesting_.”

Billy whines, flops down on the bed beside his brother. “Why would you tell him I was hiding from him? Do you _hate_ me?”

“He asked!” Tommy says, as if that explains anything. He offers the packet of breadsticks and Billy grabs a handful. 

“You could’ve lied!”

“Could’ve,” Tommy has dispensed with the breadsticks and is just sticking his finger straight into the chocolate spread. He’s truly disgusting. “Stop whining, anyway, it all worked out.”

“He thought I _hated_ him.”

Tommy rolls his eyes. “I didn’t say you _hated_ him, jesus. He’s so slow.”

Billy sniffs. “It’s not a ridiculous conclusion to draw when you tell him I’m _avoiding_ him.”

“Chill,” Tommy says dismissively, “It all worked out fine, anyway.”

Billy wrinkles his nose. “Pass the nutella.”

“Oh, stop _pining_.”

“I’m not pining.”

“You _are_ pining.”

“For the fjords, maybe.” Billy sticks a finger in the spread. Sibling germs are basically your germs, right?

“If by fjords you mean a tall, handsome druid with eyes that sparkle like the-”

“I’d love to go to Norway,” Billy muses, pointedly ignoring him. “It would be awesome.”

“If by Norway you mean Teddy’s bedroom -”

Billy claps his hands over his ears. “OK THAT’S ENOUGH.”

Tommy gives him a big, innocent grin, chocolate smeared across his face.  “What?”

Billy sighs, falls onto his back and covers his face with his hands. 

“Alright then,” Tommy declares, “I’ll put you out of your misery.” He leaves a dramatic pause, flourishes a breadstick. “Teddy is definitely into boys, so that’s one less thing to agonize over.”

“I’m not pining,” Billy mutters, but he peeks out from between two fingers. “How would _you_ know what Teddy’s into, anyway?”

“I asked him,” Tommy says cheerfully, and Billy combusts.

“You what?” Billy is going completely nuclear. “Oh my _god_ what is he going to _think-_ ”

“With any luck, that you’d like to be his boyfriend.” Tommy smiles brightly. “I mean, I told him to take you out for coffee-”

“You told him _what_?” Billy is dying. He’s actually dying. This is what death feels like, and Tommy is going to _cry_ at his funeral and it will serve him _right_ because he is an _asshole_.

“No milk, two sugars.” Tommy looks ridiculous pleased with himself. “He did remember, right?”

“I hate you.”

“I’m helping you!” Tommy smacks Billy in the arm. “I’m doing you a _massive favour_ and you are too fucking dumb to realise it.”

“Look,” Billy snaps, and he jerks himself back upright. “Firstly, I’m _not pining_ for him, and secondly, even if I was pining - which I am _not_ \- then you can’t just decide Teddy is interested in me like that, because he’s _not_ , and that’s _ridiculous,_ and it’s _not ok_ for you to ruin my friendship because you think it’s funny!”

“I have literally laid this on a plate for you, Billy.” Tommy sighs aggressively. “You are such an idiot I can’t even process how much of an idiot you are being -”

“He’s not a - a beef roast!” Billy snaps, arms flailing. “You can’t just- just - _prepare_ him for me!”

“A beef roast,” Tommy repeats, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

There’s a second of silence before they both burst into hysterics, and Tommy rolls onto the breadsticks, and Rebecca is bewildered and annoyed to find a pair of crumb-encrusted, chocolate covered twins rolling around on Tommy’s white duvet.

 

*

 

[Guild][Wiccan] : DONT STAND IN THE FIRE

[Guild][Speed] : my bad 

[Guild][Speed] : oops

[Guild][Wiccan] : TOMMY

[Guild][Speed] : well it moved didnt it

[Guild][Wiccan] : SO MOVE

 _Hulkling has come online_.

[Guild][Hulkling] : hey guys

[Guild][Stature] :  hey teddy!

[Guild][Hawkeye] : you’re missing the show

[Guild][Hulkling] : dare I ask?

[Guild][Wiccan] : TOMMY THE FIRE

[Guild][Hawkeye] : they were getting all twin-y and uppity

[Guild][Hawkeye] : they said they could solo it

[Guild][Hawkeye] : so we’re making them

[Guild][Hulking] : don’t they live together? why g chat

[Guild][Hawkeye] : oh that was one of the rules

[Guild][Hawkeye] : they can’t speak

[Guild][Hawkeye] :  they have to communicate using their twin powers

[Guild]Hulking] : and how’s that going for them?

[Guild][Wiccan] : WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU

[Guild][Speed] : heehee

[Guild][Hawkeye] : weirdly enough not brilliantly

[Guild][Speed] : hahaha oops

[Guild][Wiccan] : DID YOU JUST

[Guild][Speed] : my bad

[Guild][Wiccan] : don’t you dare stealth tommy dont even think about it

[Guild][Speed] : oops

[Guild][Wiccan] : GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW

[Guild][Wiccan] : TOMMY

[Guild][Wiccan] : WE SHARED A WOMB DON’T DO THIS TO ME

[Guild][Wiccan] : TOMMY????

[Guild][Stature] : do you think they’ve learned their lesson?

[Guild][Hawkeye] : no

[Guild][Hawkeye] : not yet

[Guild][Stature] : i agree

[Guild][Hulkling] : you two can be really scary, you know that right

[Guild][Hawkeye] :  yes.

[Guild][Stature] : yes.

[Guild][Hulking] : ooooooookay

[Guild][Speed] : hey look billy it’s your body

[Guild][Speed] : billy look i’m dancing on your body

[Guild][Speed] : billy i’m dancing like michael jackson on your dead body look

[Guild][Speed] : billlliiiee jeeaaan is nooot my looooover

[Guild][Speed]: billy look i farted on your lifeless corpse

[Guild][Wiccan] : i hate you

 

*

 

Teddy sits with him for lunch every day, and by Wednesday, Billy actually forgets to bring a book to lunch. They flick balled up straw wrappers at each other and giggle like five year olds.

Whenever he’s around him, Billy feels like he’s constantly on top of an incredibly high cliff and is about to plunge gracelessly over the edge into a sea of hopeless, besotted optimism. 

Weirdly, he kind of likes it.

 

*

 

[Guild][Speed] :  so bowling tomorrow yes?

[Guild][Stature] :  yep!!

[Guild][Hawkeye] : I’m going to own you losers

[Guild][Wiccan] : no argument here

[Guild][Patriot] : i’m arguing

[Guild][Hawkeye] : why am I not surprised?

[Guild][Speed] : i found us another dps, i’m bringing him so he can meet everyone

[Guild][Wiccan]: wait what?

[Guild][Speed] : my friend david

[Guild][Wiccan] you have never mentioned him before ever??

[Guild][Speed] : well he’s cool

[Guild][Nate] : sounds good, bring him along

[Guild][Wiccan] :  who’s david?

[Guild][America] : whats this

[Guild][Hawkeye] : bowling

[Guild][Hawkeye] : tomorrow

[Guild][Wiccan] : who the hell is david??

[Guild][Hawkeye] : be there or I will cry

[Guild][Hawkeye] : also you are on my team

[Guild][Hawkeye] : shotgun america

[Guild][America] : sure

[Guild][Stature] : meeeee??

[Guild][Hawkeye]: we’re having cass too

[Guild][Patriot]: ok then I want nate and teddy

[Guild][Hulkling] : oooh a gang war! so much fun

[Guild][Patriot] : ok who else can bowl

[Guild][Wiccan] : not me

[Guild][Wiccan] : ps WHO IS DAVID

[Guild][Hawkeye] : I believe in you billy

[Guild][Hawkeye] : we’ll take the healer

[Guild][Hawkeye] : and the rogue

[Guild][Hawkeye] : he’s nice to look at

[Guild][Speed] : i feel so used

[Guild][Patriot] : jonas you’re with us

[Guild][Vision] : ok!

[Guild][Patriot] : we’ll have this david kid as well

[Guild][Wiccan] :  WHO IS DAVID

[Guild][Patriot] :  so the numbers are even

[Guild][Hawkeye] : two teams

[Guild][Hawkeye] : but ONLY ONE CAN WIN

[Guild][Wiccan] : /clicks fingers

[Guild][Hulkling] : /does aggressive twirl

[Guild][Speed] : don’t encourage him jesus

[Guild][Hulkling] : so are we jets

[Guild][Wiccan] :  filth

[Guild][Hulkling] : can I be the one that doesn’t die in the end

[Guild][Hawkeye] : no promises

[Guild][Hulkling] :  just promise me someone will weep over my lifeless corpse

[Guild][Hawkeye] :  billy will

[Guild][Wiccan]: um well

[Guild][Wiccan] : we could just not kill anyone

[Guild][Wiccan] : how’s that for a plan

[Guild][Hawkeye] : billy i am the leader of this bowling team and i say we kill teddy

[Guild][Hawkeye] : you will weep over his dead body

[Guild][Hawkeye] : have i made myself clear?

[Guild][Wiccan] : yes ma’am

[Guild][Hawkeye] : and you will sing

[Guild][Wiccan]: oh god are you sure

[Guild][Hulkling] : NO

[Guild][Hulking] : i’ve heard him sing

[Guild][Hulking] : he regaled me with dancing queen last wednesday over lunch

[Guild][Hawkeye] : … sounds cosy.

[Guild][Wiccan] : ok no singing

[Guild][Wiccan] : I could squeeze a few tears out though

[Guild][Hulkling] :  and here I was holding out for genuine grief

[Guild][Wiccan] : well I’d be a bit sad I suppose

[Guild][Hulkling] : a bit?

[Guild][Wiccan] : yeah like 20% maybe

[Guild][Wiccan] : 30% if you leave me your gear

[Guild][Hulkling] : I’ll take what I can get

[Guild][Hawkeye] : jesus CHRIST

 

*

 

Billy has never seen David before in his life. It’s not completely unlike Tommy to suddenly produce a mysterious friend, but Billy usually has a vague recollection of their face, at least. 

Tommy and David show up late. Teddy has already tried and failed to intimidate Kate with his aggressive dance moves and finger clicking, Cassie and Kate danced round America singing ‘America’ and flouncing their imaginary skirts (her lips twitch slightly, but it’s hard to say if she enjoys or endures it), and Billy laughed until he cried at both. Jonas has commandeered the bowling machine and given them all stupid names, Nate is doing something that _must_ be close to relaxing, and Eli is examining the balls with hilarious intensity, muttering something about weights and velocity.

“What’s up, losers,” Tommy says, and slides into place beside Kate. “Everyone, this is David. David, everyone.”

It’s a woefully inadequate introduction, so they all rush to give him their names, and Billy scrutinises his face for any sign of familiarity.

“Billy,” he says, and gives a tentative wave. “Tommy’s brother.”

David nods. “You’re the healer, right?”

Billy does a weak sort of jazz-hands gesture. “That’s me.”

“I off-spec heal on one of my alts.” David says, and it comes out sounding so weirdly aggressive that Billy takes a step back. 

“Cool?” Billy says, not sure how to react. “What’s your main?”

“Warrior.” David actually sounds bored. “I don’t actually play that much, I’m more into MOBAs, to be honest.”

Nothing like a little elitism, Billy thinks, irritation growing, but behind him Teddy’s jaw has practically hit the floor.

“Oh my _god,_ I thought I recognised your voice!”

“What?” Billy shoots Teddy a questioning look. “Do you know-”

“Oh yeah,” Tommy says absently, “David’s in the challenger tier on League of Legends. Didn’t I mention that?”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Teddy says again, and his enthusiasm would be adorable if it weren’t directed at _David_ , “I watch all your streams, you are _amazing_ , I didn’t realise you were so young _-_ ”

Billy gives Teddy a sideways look like, _woah, buddy_ , and he clamps his mouth shut and blushes. Oh, _fuck_ \- did Billy just become his wingman? He better not have just become his wingman.

“I’m hoping to join a team once I graduate,” David says, “but just streaming is more flexible what with school, and everything.”

“Awesome,” Teddy breathes, and Billy wants to cry, just a little bit. Why couldn’t _he_ be in the challenger tier? He’s never played League of Legends in his life, and up until this moment it wasn’t something he regretted with the intensity of a thousand suns. He watched, like, two games over Tommy’s shoulder once. It looked stressful. There was an annoying fox?

“I have this incredible pipe-dream of being a shoutcaster, you know,” Teddy is saying dreamily, and David is nodding encouragingly, “but I’ll never make gold.”

“Sure you can,” David says, and he’s suddenly all warmth and encouragement. “I could coach you, if you’d like. Introduce you to some people.”

Teddy turns to Billy with a thrilled expression, and Billy can’t do anything but grin and give him a thumbs up, however much he’d rather just set himself on fire and run out the building screaming.

“Wow, that would be so incredibly _awesome_ -”

Tommy sighs dramatically, tugs at Billy’s sleeve.

“Enough geekery, I wanna throw heavy balls at stuff.”

“Team huddle!” Cassie shrieks, and they all shuffle together and lock shoulders. Billy peeks over Kate’s arm to where Teddy is gesticulating wildly at a very receptive David, and represses a grimace. _Urgh_. Why did Tommy have to have _friends_? So unreasonable.

“Stop _fraternising_ , Maria,” Kate hisses, and Billy tries not to blush as Tommy sniggers. “Let’s kick their collective butt.”

“What’s the plan, O Leader?”

“We trash talk them when they’re trying to bowl. Works every time.” Kate’s grin is - frankly - nothing short of terrifying.

“Oooh, Nate just had a haircut, he doesn’t like it. Tell him his ears stick out.” 

“Excellent information, Laing. Let’s do this.”

America goes first, cracking her knuckles and selecting the heaviest ball in the rack. 

As Kate and Cassie start cheering, Billy grabs Tommy’s wrist and mutters in his ear: “Not to sound crazy or anything, but Is David into guys?”

“Huh?” Tommy twists to face him and frowns. “I have no idea. Maybe?”

“I’m just getting the impression he-”

“Although,” Tommy muses, “he did kiss me that one time...”

“Excuse me?” Billy splutters.

Tommy shrugs. “I just thought it was a mistake.”

“What, he fell and tripped onto your mouth?” Billy rolls his eyes, half watching America score a strike and Kate giving her a high five.

“It happens!” Tommy protests, in total earnest. It probably _does_ , to Tommy. “It was dark!”

“So what did you do?” Billy shoots Tommy a curious look. “Did you… let him?”

He’s half-relieved, half-annoyed that he doesn’t get the full story, as it’s Tommy turn next, and Kate drags him to the front. He’s not _entirely_ sure he wants to know.

 

*

 

Billy’s team win, because Kate and America are fucking _terrifying_ and throw the balls like shot puts down the alley. He can practically see the black cloud above Eli’s head, which is only exacerbated by Tommy and Kate’s energetic victory dance.

Nate’s ‘no guild dating’ rule is going to hell in a handbasket, Billy can tell, one way or another. 

They agree to go for milkshakes after, and Billy ends up wedged happily between Kate and Teddy, and they agree it was probably for the best that no one ended up weeping over anyone else’s dead body. 

He mostly just sits there, quietly content, letting the conversation wash over him, until he gets nominated to get them all new drinks and grumbles his way to the counter.

He orders Teddy a custard shake, because it sounds like the kind of weird thing he’d go for, and Kate a hazelnut. He waits for them to be made and fiddles with the menu.

“Hey.”

Billy looks up; it’s David. A wave of annoyance washes over him, and he tries his hardest to suppress it. Irrational jealousy is an very ugly thing, and David is probably just a nice person stuck in the middle of Billy’s hopeless situation. He shouldn’t take it out on him.

“Hi.” Billy says, sliding the menu across to him. David’s wearing tinted glasses, which he hasn’t taken off the entire afternoon. Billy wants to punch him.

David gives him a half-smile, and Billy immediately feels like an asshole. 

“So,” he says desperately, “how do you know Tommy?”

He could _swear_ David blushes, but his face is so completely unreadable Billy can’t possibly be sure. “That’s a funny story,” he says, and then proceeds to say nothing more on the subject whatsoever.

“Er, ok.” Billy taps his fingers on the counter. He makes a mental note to wring that one out of Tommy later.

“How do you know Teddy?” David asks, which seems kind of a weird thing to direct at _him_.

“The guild, mostly.” Billy thanks the barista fervently as the drinks arrive. “We go to the same school though, and we hang out.” Is that a lie? It feels like a lie, but they _definitely_ ate lunch together all week. Teddy said they were friends.

“I was just wondering,” David says carefully, looking pointedly at the menu, “if he was single.”

Billy tries not to throw his milkshake in David’s face, because that would be excessively violent and uncalled for. It’s not his fault Billy is hopelessly pining over someone _way_ out of his league. 

“He’s, uh,” Billy stares down at the milkshake for inspiration. What should he say? ‘No’ would be an outright lie - and the sort of thing a crazy stalker would say - but ‘yes’ is an invitation for David to make Billy completely miserable. 

“I dunno,” he finishes feebly. 

David shoots him a skeptical look. 

“Do you mind if I-” he gestures at the milkshake Billy ordered for Teddy, and Billy just sort of gapes at him. He minds. He minds a _lot_ , but he doesn’t manage to actually make words come out his mouth, wherein lies the misunderstanding. David obviously takes this as a yes, grabbing the milkshake with a smile and heading back to the table. The traitourous _fucker_ slides into the space Billy just vacated and hands a beaming Teddy his drink. Billy stands and watches the whole scene play out (“Oh my god, is that _custard?_ Amazing!”) in complete shock.

He doesn’t notice Kate until she’s tapping him on the shoulder.

“Need help carrying anything?” 

“I - he’s taking credit for my inspired milkshake choice!” Billy splutters, and he knows he sounds crazy, but he can’t bring himself to _care_ right now.

“Yeah,” Kate says thoughtfully, “looks like he is.”

Billy hands her the milkshake he ordered in a confused daze. “He stole my _seat_.” 

Kate starts to laugh, turning it quickly and unconvincingly into a cough. “What was that intense little conversation about, anyway?” She nudges his shoulder gently.

“He wanted to know if Teddy was _single._ ” Billy tries to sound casual, but there’s a definite note of hysteria creeping in. He clears his throat.

 Kate leans on the counter and watches him with an unnerving intensity.“What did you say?” 

“I said I didn’t know.” Billy grabs his milkshake, stares blankly down at it.

“Don’t you?” Kate looks at him sharply. It feels like an accusation.

“I’ve never _asked_ ,” Billy protests, “I don’t keep a permanent surveillance on him, believe it or not.”

Kate grins. “You _know_ exactly when and how much he’s online, doofus.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Billy mutters, and she nudges him with her shoulder again.

“Billy?”

“Yes?”

“Chin up.” She gives him a funny look, a little too knowing for Billy’s liking. “You’re _my_ favourite boy, anyway.”

“I won’t tell Tommy.”

Kate laughs at that, and grabs his hand, guiding him to another empty seat opposite Cassie and America. She starts an animated discussion about the lack of female NPCs, and Billy _almost_ forgets to keep glancing over at Teddy and David.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers are kind of MCU Avengers, kind of not? I was mostly just desperate to find a way to get the beautiful kids of Avengers Academy in there somewhere, however brief and tiny a cameo.
> 
> I should probably apologise now about what a shitty time I am giving Teddy, but in my defence, volume 1 started it? (Following the general AU fanon that his mom is ill, because I'm horrible.)
> 
> (Tommy's horrible snacking habits are my horrible snacking habits. Breadsticks. Nutella. That's where it's at. Don't buy the pre-made pots with those puny little sticks. I'm talking huge breadstick packets. Go big or go home.)
> 
> Hope you liked it! (Also, please feel free to [tumblr at me](http://sciencefictionbaby.tumblr.com).)
> 
>  **Edited to add** : oh boy, I hope I haven't messed up and made David seem like a total douche. Not my intention! D: Billy's just handling everything dreadfully and David is a bit more proactive?


	3. iii. PVP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which shit hits the fan and Kate means business.

Billy doesn’t spend the rest of the weekend obsessively googling David, because that would be _creepy._ Billy’s not creepy, he’s curious. It’s more of an academic exercise, really. Getting to know his new guildmate.

 _Prodigy,_ that’s what he calls himself. Talk about over-confidence.

Billy doesn’t have to like it, but it does seem to be reasonably accurate. David’s kind of a big deal, if you’re into that sort of thing. He has his own _meme_ , for god’s sake. Billy doesn’t really get it, but presumably the joke is based around David being good with one playable character, or something. Whatever. He hates those stupid glasses. Apparently they’re Prodigy’s “trademark look.” 

“Why are you photoshopping David’s glasses off?”

Billy whips round, trying not to look at guilty as he feels. “Have you even _heard_ of knocking?”

“It’s a bit creepy.” Tommy folds his arms. “Just sayin’.”

“I just wondered,” Billy says, with as much dignity as he can muster, “if his head would look really small without them.”

Tommy seems to give this serious consideration. “Does it?”

“A little bit.” Billy makes a few more swipes with the clone tool. “Don’t you think?”

Tommy tips his head to the side and squints. “Did you get rid of his eyebrows?”

“A necessary casualty.” 

“Right.” Tommy snickers. “Don’t give up the day job.”

Billy lets out a quiet little huff of indignation, but leaves the photo up. If he closes the window, Tommy will see his google search history. It’s a pretty futile attempt at damage control, and he feels like David’s eyebrow-less stare is judging him. Harshly.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Billy says pointedly. 

“What? No.” Tommy lolls obliviously onto Billy’s bed. “I’m having quality time with my brother.” He buries his face in the pillows and sighs contentedly. “How come you have better pillows than me, anyway?”

“Blatant favouritism.” Billy takes advantage of Tommy’s temporary distraction to quickly close all his tabs and open up an innocuous youtube video of a cat failing to jump onto a roof. 

“Knew it,” Tommy grumbles, and rolls over. “I’m putting in a complaint with Rebecca.”

Billy perches on the edge of the bed with a resigned sigh. “So, what’s up?”

“Nothing.” Tommy looks at Billy with wide eyes. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, yeah,” Tommy says, “except you were photoshopping David’s face, and that’s a bit weird and unhinged, _so_.”

“I said,” Billy says, his face growing hot, “I was just curious. About the smaller head thing.”

“So you won’t mind if I check your internet history, then?” Tommy beams up at him. 

“Nope.” Billy folds his arms, and prays that he has gotten better at bluffing since the last time they played this game. “Go ahead.”

They stare each other down for a good ten seconds. Billy doesn’t move a muscle.

“You filthy liar,” Tommy breathes, and smacks Billy in the face with a pillow before he can react. Tommy, meanwhile, has commandeered Billy’s computer chair and is opening up his internet browser with terrifying efficiency. 

It’s probably too late, but Billy flings himself at Tommy anyway, and there’s a brief but intense grapple for the mouse. Tommy wins, and Billy ends up on the floor. It’s over, oh _god_. He covers his face with his hands and groans.

“Ok,” Tommy says, “ _David Alleyne,_ that’s reasonable. I mean, you want to know about your new guildie, right? It’s only normal to want to google someone in this day and age.”

On the floor, Billy makes a strangled sound.

“But _David Alleyne stupid glasses_ is getting a bit weird, I’ll admit.” Tommy frowns at the screen. “And _David Alleyne gay_ seems a bit intrusive, don’t you think?”

“Tommy-”

“The real killer has got to be _David Alleyne is a backstabbing dickface_ , though, because more than anything, your google-fu went to shit-”

“ _Tommy_.”

“Who uses function words on search engine? Really, Billy.” Tommy sighs. “I’m disappointed in you.”

“I’m disappointed in _you_.” Billy mumbles through his fingers. “Or something.”

Tommy throws him a pitying look, and continues scrolling. “You checked all his scores for this season, I see. And last season. And - wow, the season before that.”

“I’m thorough.”

“His tumblr tag, too,” Tommy hums. “I bet that was enlightening.”

“Oh, it was.” 

“Did you see that one where they’ve photoshopped the - _oh_.”

“What?” Billy sits up sharply and bangs his head on the desk. “Ow.”

Tommy pushes the mouse away carefully. “Uh, I went back too far.”

“Huh? Do you mean in the - oh.” Billy stares at Tommy. They both look stricken. “Did, you, er - my history -”

“I probably didn’t need to see that.” Tommy says. “Not in the context of you also having seen it.”

“Let’s pretend it didn’t happen.” Billy suggests. “Like that other time I didn’t see that thing that wasn’t in your favourites.”

“That’s a great idea,” Tommy says brightly, and they blink awkwardly at each other for a few moments.

“You delved too greedily, and too deep.” Billy says solemnly, and Tommy smacks him in the face with the pillow. This can only mean war, of course, so Billy grabs his murlock plushie and starts beating Tommy about the head with it and yelling.

It brings a concerned Jeff upstairs, who takes one look at the scene and backs slowly out the doorway looking bewildered. 

“Seriously, though,” Tommy says, when Jeff has made his hasty retreat, “don’t blame David for _your_ shitty handling of the Teddy situation, mmkay?”

Billy feels so sheepish after that little speech that he forgets to protest when Tommy walks out still clutching his pillow.

 

*

 

Tommy is back at school, and Billy is a jumpy mess.

He is delighted to have him back, he is dreading having Kessler back, and he is absolutely devastated that the weird, little bubble of him and Teddy is gone.  

As it turns out, Teddy isn’t going anywhere.

He flops down at their lunch table with an exasperated sigh, as if that’s where he’s always sat for lunch.

“I’m failing chem,” Teddy grouses, like they’re halfway through a conversation, and slams his tray down. “Hi, Tommy.”

“Hey.” Tommy is completely unphased. “Pym’s a douche.”

“He’s ok,” Billy says, in a very small voice, because Pym _did_ stop Tommy and Kessler from actually murdering each other, and he likes him. He also _didn’t_ mention said murder attempt to Wanda, along with all the other things he must hear about, and yet still never passes any of them on. Billy appreciates that. 

“House arrest over?” Teddy says to Tommy, before flashing Billy a smile by way of a greeting. It’s a very nice smile, and Billy’s face must do something weird and tragic, because Tommy kicks him in the shin with a pitying look. Billy wishes they’d take up another - less painful - method of communication.

“Yep,” Tommy says brightly, “I’m back.”

“What about the other guy?” Teddy asks, and Billy suddenly finds his pasta incredibly interesting.

“Dunno,” Tommy says with a grin, “but you’ll know if you see him.” 

Teddy laughs nervously and shoots Billy a terrified look. 

Billy shakes his head. “So,” he says, “Chem.”

Teddy twists his face. “Bleeehhh.”

“Are you actually failing, or just being dramatic?” 

“I’m actually failing,” Tommy says cheerfully, and Billy kicks _him_ in the shins, this time. Tommy doesn’t even wince, so Billy clearly needs to work on his technique.

“Not on my watch.” Billy says, and he means it. He will drag Tommy through high school kicking and screaming, if he has to, which evidently, he does.

Teddy grumbles. “Don’t tell me you’re a chemistry wizard.”

“Wizard, yes,” Billy says seriously. “Chemistry wizard, no. But I do okay.”

“I don’t.” Teddy says glumly. “I’m not even being dramatic, I just really _suck._ ”

“You need a tutor,” Tommy says, and he kicks Billy in the ankle with an astonishing amount of force.

Billy bites back a string of obscenities. “A tutor? Yeah, that could be an idea.”

Teddy sighs. “Urgh. I guess.”

Tommy jabs Billy in the ribs with his freakishly pointy fingers. “Billy could tutor you.”

“I - huh?” Billy is still preoccupied with the amount of pain Tommy has caused him, and his brain is refusing to process anything else other than how obscenely angular Tommy is, and how obscenely often Billy experiences said angularity. He wants a refund; brotherhood is not as comradely as he was promised.

Teddy looks up, surprised. “You could?”

Billy blinks back at him for a few seconds before slamming his hand down on the table with unnecessary vehemence.

“I could!” Billy all but bellows, because he might not be in the challenger tier, and he might not be very good at Defense of the Ancients, but god _fucking_ damnit he know his atomic structure. “I know things!”

Teddy starts slightly. “Um, great?” 

“Excellent!” Tommy says, clapping his hands together. “You can come over tomorrow night for tea. Meet the parents.”

Billy and Teddy turn to stare at him with matching perplexed expressions.

He grins back at them and continues eating his sandwich. 

 

*

 

[Guild][Iron Lad] : so, raid tomorrow?

[Guild][Hulkling] : ahhh when?

[Guild][Hulking] : we’re kind of busy

[Guild][Hawkeye] : we?

[Guild][Hulkling] : billy is helping me with chem

[Guild][Hulkling] : i am failing :(

[Guild][Iron Lad] : that won’t take all evening surely

[Guild][Hawkeye] : so what you’re saying is

[Guild][Hawkeye] : billy is your tutor

[Guild][Speed] : you could raid here

[Guild][Speed] : we have a spare laptop

[Guild][Hawkeye] : so billy is tutoring you in chemistry

[Guild][Wiccan] : is it so unbelievable that i might know things?

[Guild][Hawkeye] : he’s going over to your house

[Guild][Wiccan] : we’ve been over this kate

[Guild][Iron Lad] : ok so hulkling can play at their house

[Guild][Iron Lad] : problem solved

[Guild][Hulkling] : learning AND raiding yay!

[Guild][Speed] : i’m a genius

[Guild][Hawkeye] : evidently.

[Guild][Hulkling] : so on a scale of 1 to marie curie where will I be after tomorrow

[Guild][Wiccan] : oh god

[Guild][Wiccan] : well that’s pressure

[Guild][Hawkeye] : i hope senpai will notice me

[Guild][Wiccan] : shut up

[Guild][Hulkling] : shut up

 

*

 

It look like that Tommy might have _actually_ broken Kessler’s nose, despite his insistence to the contrary - although Billy is rather inclined to trust Tommy’s judgement when it comes to what breaking a nose feel like. Either way, that’s definitely what Kessler wants people to think, judging by the bandage he’s sporting across his face. 

Billy passes him in the corridor as he runs back to his locker after lunch. Try as he might, he doesn’t quite manage to slink past unnoticed. Kessler grabs a fistful of his hoodie, Billy forced onto his tiptoes in a ridiculous balancing act, holding onto Kessler’s wrists for dear life.

They stare at each other for a few seconds, then Kessler lets go with a sudden vigour. Billy trips over his bag, bangs his head off the wall. It’s nothing, it’s nothing at all.

Kessler doesn’t say a word, but it’s a promise, and Billy understands exactly what it means.

 

*

 

Billy puts his murlock plushie in the wardrobe, and closes the door. There, much better. This is clearly the room of a mature individual with refined tastes.

On the other hand, it’s a _murlock_ plushie, and it makes _noises_ , and Teddy will definitely appreciate it, so he whisks it back out the wardrobe and arranges it neatly on his pillow. 

But then again… it’s not like he _sleeps_ with it or anything, because that would be super weird, especially given the noises it makes when squeezed. He moves it to the desk, just left of his desk tidy. Perfect.

Billy has a startling moment of clarity at how ridiculous he is being, and sinks down into his desk chair with a groan. 

 

To [Sporkeye] : kate help me I’m having a crisis

To [Sporkeye] : seriously 

To [Sporkeye] : wait what

To [Sporkeye] : … did you change your name

[Sporkeye] whispers: NO

[Sporkeye] whispers: I DID NOT

To [Sporkeye] : dare I ask

[Sporkeye] whispers: the fucker hacked me

To [Sporkeye] : oh my GOD

To [Sporkeye] : do you mean who I think you mean

[Sporkeye] whispers: yes

[Sporkeye] whispers: he’s strutting round stormwind as we speak 

[Sporkeye] whispers: WITH MY FUCKING NAME

To [Sporkeye] : oh my god ok ok we can fix this

To [Sporkeye] : if we just talk to him or

[Sporkeye] whispers: i will destroy him

[Sporkeye] whispers: i am vengeance

To [Sporkeye] : … or we could just resort to violence, ok

[Sporkeye] whispers: he will rue the day he fucked with me

To [Sporkeye] : i don’t doubt it

[Sporkeye] whispers: i am so mad

[Sporkeye] whispers: i wanna punch things

[Sporkeye] whispers: but you’re having a crisis?

To [Sporkeye] : ehh it doesn’t matter

[Sporkeye] whispers: nonono i’m all ears 

[Sporkeye] whispers: i am in billy crisis mode now

To [Sporkeye] : it’s stupid it’s just

To [Sporkeye] : you know how i’m supposed to stop teddy failing chem

To [Sporkeye] : it’s just kind of a headache

[Sporkeye] whispers: ohhhh because youre crazy in love with him 

[Sporkeye] whispers: and you want to take all his clothes off

To [Sporkeye] : no!!!

To [Sporkeye] : jesus 

To [Sporkeye] : that’s crazy

To [Sporkeye] : although 

To [Sporkeye] : oh my god

To [Sporkeye] : is it that obvious

To [Sporkeye] : just shoot me now

[Sporkeye] whispers: bless you 

[Sporkeye] whispers: BOYS

To [Sporkeye] : dont mock me

[Sporkeye] whispers: so when you say a crisis you mean

[Sporkeye] whispers: you need a sassy straight best friend to take you out for coffee

[Sporkeye] whispers: and listen to your boy troubles?

To [Sporkeye] : no!!

To [Sporkeye] : although that does sound good

To [Sporkeye] : but i still have to get through tomorrow help

[Sporkeye] whispers: just think sexy chemistry thoughts instead

To [Sporkeye] : KATE

[Sporkeye] whispers: mmmm electron bonding

To [Sporkeye] : you are not good at this

[Sporkeye] whispers: COVALENCY OH YES

To [Sporkeye] : oh my GOD you need to stop right NOW

[Sporkeye] whispers : chemists do it periodically on the table

[Sporkeye] whispers: extract some protein from his column

To [Sporkeye] : right that’s it

To [Sporkeye] : i am leaving

[Sporkeye] whispers: it’s not the size of the vector that matters

[Sporkeye] whispers: but the way you deliver the force

To [Sporkeye] : OK GOODBYE KATE

 

*

 

Billy didn’t think this through, clearly. Foolishly, he had assumed that after a few basic platitudes they would be free to go to his room and study, and thus spare Teddy from too much parental interaction. In retrospect, that was incredibly optimistic.

Both Rebecca _and_ Jeff are all over Teddy the minute he’s through the door, and he looks so adorably flustered that Billy _almost_ doesn’t mind. He’s such a paragon of politeness and gratitude that Tommy mimes being sick from behind Rebecca’s back, earning a glare from Billy.

Rebecca fusses over Teddy, insisting on taking his coat and anxiously asking about his dietary requirements before giving him the full interrogation of how he knows Billy and Tommy. Billy had been incredibly vague the evening before, just saying that he was going to study some Chem with a friend from school. His mom, however, teases out the full story, and seems to perk up when she learns Teddy is from ‘that online game.’ She rattles off a few studies about how young people are making more friendships online and how it allows them to find friends more specifically aligned with their own interests and values, and it is _way_ too much, but also kind of lovely. She’s obviously been doing some reading.

They are finally released from the parental clutches, and Billy nods towards the stairs, gesturing for Teddy to follow him.

“Leave the door open,” Rebecca says, and Billy whips round to face her with a horrified expression. This can’t be happening. He doesn’t dare glance across at Teddy, but he can tell from the corner of his vision that he has also frozen, probably also in horror. This is a _bad dream_ , she did not just say that, she cannot possibly be implying-

“I’m sick and tired of yelling myself hoarse over those noisy video games,” she adds, shooting Billy a look that he _really_ doesn’t appreciate. “Dinner’s up in an hour.”

She _knows_ they’re not playing video games, he told her they were studying. Billy want to sink into the floor.

“Right,” he says, furiously fighting the urge the blush, “an hour, great.”

Rebecca beams at him, and from up the stairs he can hear Tommy sniggering.

He grabs Teddy’s wrist and drags him upstairs before anything else _awful_ can happen. He nearly slams the door shut but checks himself just in time and leaves it ajar.

“Your parents are super nice,” Teddy says, and Billy mutters darkly.

“I’m sorry they descended on you like carrion.” 

“Like - what? No.” Teddy shoots him a perplexed look. “No, it was nice of them!”

Billy pulls a thoroughly unconvinced face, and Teddy smiles at him reassuringly. 

“Really. It was a bit intense, but-”

Billy snorts. “Yeah.”

“-but nice.” Teddy finishes, before awkwardly fixing his gaze somewhere just above Billy’s head. “It’s just, does you mom think we’re, um.”

Billy holds his breath, but Teddy just winces, and changes the subject swiftly.

“She’s super nice,” Teddy says again, and he is _definitely_ blushing. At least that makes two of them, because Billy is so mortified he wants to crawl under his bed and never come out. He can just yell Chemistry instructions from under there. Teddy can slide his notepad underneath when he needs something checked. 

He’s spared from responding; Teddy has already picked up his murlock plushie, and is squeezing it and laughing. It gives him a second to compose himself and open a textbook in an authoritative manner.

“Ok, so,” he says, giving Teddy a very stern look, “where should we start?”

It is truly tragic that this is the first time Billy ever has a boy in his bedroom that he has a crush on, and they are actually, _literally_ going to sit and do Chemistry. And that’s not an euphemism.  

“Oh, right,” Teddy says brightly, and sits himself down on the end of Billy’s bed, rummaging in his backpack. “I thought maybe organic?”

“Right,” Billy says faintly, because apparently they’re doing this on his _bed_ , and it just adds to the inherent tragedy of the situation. “Organic.”

He perches tentatively beside Teddy and flips to the correct chapter.

They end up stretched out side by side on their stomachs, heads together over the textbook, and it is five thousand percent platonic, but Teddy actually seems to learn things, so at least Billy’s good for something.

 

*

 

After dinner, it’s raiding time, and Tommy comes through complete with laptop and shit-eating grin. 

He leans in close to Billy. “Seal the deal?”

“Fuck _off_.” Billy hisses. “You’re a disgrace.” He casts a nervous glance at Teddy, but he doesn’t seem to have heard.

Tommy sighs, shifts to a normal speaking volume. “Lots of exciting chemistry, then?”

“Lots,” Teddy agrees, and turns to grin at Billy, who blushes, completely against his will. That’s not new, he’s been on a permanent blushing streak since Teddy set foot in his house. He is hopelessly resigned to being permanently pink.

“Good,” Tommy says smugly, and opens his laptop with a click. 

They set Teddy up on Billy’s spare laptop with the dodgy mouse that doesn’t always go left properly (“That’ll be interesting,” Teddy says wryly) and he and Tommy spread themselves out comfortably on Billy’s bed.

“Evening,” Nate says, as they log onto voice chat. “Glad you made it.”

“How was the Chemistry?” Kate asks, sweet as anything. Billy bites his tongue.

“Good,” Teddy says cheerfully, “I think I might actually have learned things.”

Billy would swear in a court of law that he hears Kate mutter: “Boring.” 

“ _Anyway_ ,” Nates says, and he sounds as close to amused as he ever gets, “We’re just waiting on Cass, then we’re good to go. David brought potions so we’re good for that -”

“I brought potions,” Billy says, “I usually bring-”

“- so yeah, be ready to go in ten minutes or so.”

“But,” Billy says in a small voice, “I’m the alchemist.” He doesn’t push the voice chat button, he doesn’t even mean to say it; it just spills out. 

Tommy throws a pillow at him. “Don’t even start.”

Billy swivels in his chair to glare at him, Teddy watching the whole interaction with polite curiosity. 

“ _Fine,_ ” Billy mutters, “I’ll use my own.”

 

*

 

They’re halfway through, Nate mid-flow of his encouraging pep talk, when there comes a polite but firm cough over their voice channel.

Nate lets out a disgruntled huff of breath. “Did someone just-”

The cough comes again, even more pointed. “Excuse me, sorry to interrupt like this-”

“Who the hell is this?” Nate demands,  and Billy and Tommy exchange a look of complete and utter horror, because they _know_ that voice. 

“You might know me as Cap,” the voice says, “I’m here on behalf of the Avengers; I’d just like a word, if that’s alright.”

“Right.” Nate says, sounding slightly strangled. “How did you get in our voice chat?”

“Sorry about that,” Steve says, and he _does_ sound sorry, to his credit. “It wasn’t really my idea - Tony sort of, well - but, er, that’s neither here nor there.”

Nate doesn’t reply to that. Billy doesn’t have to hear _or_ see him to know how unbelievably furious he is. He can picture it perfectly.

“And you’re here because…?” Kate says, icily. 

“Yes,” Steve says, and he sounds almost flustered. “It’s about this guild, really. We’ve been discussing it, and I’m afraid we really can’t let you continue under this name.”

“Why?” Nate snaps. “You can’t police us like that-”

“I’m really sorry,” Steve says, and at least he’s apologising profusely. “It’s not that you aren’t a credit to this realm-”

Tommy snorts.

“-but it’s a sponsorship problem, really. We’re more than happy to merge you in with our youth programme-”

“Your _youth_ programme?” Nate says, and Billy would give _anything_ to see his face right now. He would actually pay money, all the $30.67 he has to his name.

“Avengers Academy,” Steve says proudly, as if that name isn’t a complete embarrassment. “They’re great kids.”

“I’m sure,” Kate says, “but we’re good, thanks.”

Steve sighs. “Look, we can’t have the Avengers name associated with some of the things you’re being accused of. It’s a problem.”

“What?” Nate’s voice is sharp as glass. “What exactly have we been accused of?”

“Well, botting, to be frank,” Steve says, the words rushing out like he’s desperate to get this over with. “I don’t want to point fingers without an official verdict-”

“We’ll kick them.” Nate says immediately. “We don’t want anyone in our guild doing that.”

“That’s very admirable.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nate demands. “We kick them. Problem solved.”

There’s a brief, awkward silence.  Finally, Steve exhales a little wearily. “I’m sorry. We’re still asking you to change your name. If you want to keep it, that’s fine - but you’ll need to take it to another server.”

Kate makes an exasperated sound. “But _why?_ ”

“I don’t think you quite understand; there are people in my guild who do literally make a living from this.” Steve’s tone is gentle, but ultimately condescending. “I’m sure you can see why our reputation is so important to us.”

“We’ve got fuck all to dowith your reputation.”

“I’d be inclined to disagree,” Steve says, and this time, _finally_ , he sounds a little frosty. “I do actually keep track of what’s being said about us on forums-”

Billy winces. If he’s read what Billy thinks he’s read, then no wonder he’s unhappy. There’s a very scathing thread from just before the guild began proper, which gives a very detailed outline of exactly why the Young Avengers are being formed and all the ways in which their predecessors fall short. It’s not very flattering. Ironically enough, Steve just seems to be proving their point.

 “ - and we simply can’t have a guild on the same server deliberately trying to undermine us.”

“We’re not _undermining_ \- Wiccan, back me up here.” Nate hisses.

Billy mouths helpless at his microphone. If he says _anything_ , Steve will definitely recognise him. Which… would not be good. 

“Wiccan?”

Oh, _fuck fuck fuck_. 

“You can’t stop us,” Kate points out, and Billy dares to breathe again. “You can’t _force_ us to do anything.”

“You need some time to think about it,” Steve says firmly. “I’m sure we can work this out sensibly.”

There’s a quiet click, and evidently, he’s gone.

“Can they?” Kate adds warily. “They can’t make us do anything, right?”

“They have fingers in a lot of pies.” Loki says, sounding delighted. Of course he’s delighted. He’s an asshole who lives for moments like this. Tommy likes raising a little hell, but Loki is malicious. Billy pinches the bridge of his nose; he should just _tell_ them -

“I think our first concern,” Nate says icily, “should be who the hell is botting.”

Billy bites the inside of his cheek, and Tommy shoots him a confused look.

“A very interesting question,” Loki says smugly, and that’s _it_ , Billy doesn’t care, he stabs his push-to-talk key with venom.

“It’s him.” He says, flatly. “I can’t _prove_ it, but I know he’s been camping out in the auction house.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Nate is furious. Of course he’s furious, but couldn’t he have kicked Loki _before_ unleashing his special brand of fury?

Billy sighs, rubs his eyes wearily. “There was a thing-”

“We had a deal.” Loki says, and he sounds far too happy for someone who is about to get kicked so hard it’s got to sting, at least a little. “I keep Billy’s secret, and he keeps mine. Which I suppose is no longer intact, am I right?”

Billy stares bleakly at his screen. “You’re an asshole.”

“And _you_ ,” Loki says, in a sing song voice, “are William Kaplan, adoptive son of Jeff and Rebecca Kaplan, biological son of Wanda Maximoff, otherwise known as the Scarlet Witch and member of the Avengers-”

Teddy sits up with a start. “Billy?”

“Are you done?” Billy rubs his forehead. “

Loki laughs. “Oh, I’m done. It’s been a pleasure.”

He quits before Nate gets the chance to kick him, to add insult to injury.

There’s a long silence both over the chat channel, and in Billy’s bedroom. There’s not really anything to say.

“Were you ever going to tell us?” Nate says, and unsurprisingly, his icy fury is a lot less enjoyable when it’s directed at Billy. He’s not sure where Nate means Loki, or his own familiar situation, but it amounts to the same kind of accusation: _you lied to us_. It’s not… it’s not _fair_. They’re just playing a stupid game together, he doesn’t owe them any personal information whatsoever, and they can’t act like he’s done something wrong by trying to keep his weird, complicated life a secret. They _can’t_.

“Billy?” Kate says tentatively, her voice full of gentle concern, and that feels even _worse_. 

“Honestly?” Billy says. “Probably not.”

He logs out immediately and can’t bring himself to meet Teddy’s eyes.

 

*

 

After Teddy has very politely thanked Billy’s parents and they have made it _more_ than clear they want him back as soon as possible, he and Billy are left in the hallway, alone and slightly awkward. Billy clears his throat and unlocks the door.

Teddy hovers in his doorway, looking confused and worried and maybe even a little bit sad. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Teddy says, sounding tentative. He’s probably mad that Billy didn’t tell him. It’s worse than not telling the guild, because they never _asked_. Teddy knew he was adopted, Teddy has even asked about his biological family, and Billy waved it away with careless excuses.

“Sure.” Billy says. Of all the scenarios he’s imagined - and he’s imagined more than he’d care to admit - that involve Teddy, his doorstep and saying goodbye, none of them went like this.

His previous nightmare scenario involved his dad walking in on them doing something considerable less platonic than standing awkwardly not looking at each other, Teddy biting his lip and Billy fidgeting with the latch. That doesn’t really seem like such a nightmare anymore. It seems ideal.

Now that he’s thought about _that_ , he doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he just grins inanely and sticks his thumbs up, feeling completely deflated. 

Teddy fiddles with the straps on his rucksack. “Thanks for the Chemistry.”

“Anytime.” Billy fights the urge to laugh hysterically and without humour. “I hope I helped.”

 

*

 

It’s a Wednesday, which just makes it worse. Wednesday is supposed to be on his side.

They corner him in the bathroom between periods when he’s frowning at his reflection and considering his laundry list of defects. He’s been expecting it - just not here, not now. He would’ve worn a darker t-shirt.

He knows from the titles of the spines of his mom’s personal library that dissociation is unhealthy, but he hopes she’ll forgive him if he tries very, very hard to pretend this isn’t happening to him. He watches his body with mild disinterest and clinical detachment. It’s better not to feel some things.

It’s perfectly logical. Tommy wounded Kessler’s delicate pubescent pride, and Tommy was only involved because Billy was involved, therefore - Billy is to blame. Teenage honour dictates at least a punch to the face and a few generic insults. Or, you know, less generic. Personally tailored to his particular brand of disgrace is fine too. Tactically speaking, Billy is the more sensible target, much less likely to make any kind of resistance, token or otherwise. 

Billy takes the path of least resistance because there’s so little point in fighting the inevitable. 

It could be worse, it could be so much worse. He might be spitting blood into the sink, but humans bleed pretty easily. It’s just a split lip. The left side of his face is going to look pretty bad for a while, but it’s ok. It’s fine. It’s not like it matters. 

He skips math in favour of bleeding into the sink, trying to patch himself up with toilet paper and to wash his shirt with the watery soap from the dispenser, both with poor to moderate success.

Billy plans an elaborate excuse for his math teacher, constructs a polished letter of apology in his head and thinks extremely hard about everything except what he’s doing. When the bell rings for lunch, he zips his hoodie up, pulls the hood as far down as it goes, and he almost looks like he’s not spent the past fifty minutes cursing his platelets. 

He runs to the library and finds some quiet stacks to hide between, something complicated and convoluted to read. He tries not to think about his throbbing face, or his ruined shirt.

Or if Teddy and Tommy will notice his absence.

 

*

 

Tommy meets him by the bus stop, yanks his hood back with a look like thunder.

“Before you say anything,” Billy hisses with unexpected venom, “just _don’t_.” 

He pulls his hood back up and stalks onto the bus before Tommy can say anything else, and sprawls across a whole double seat. Tommy takes the seat in front with a twisted expression, and they don’t say a word to each other for the entire journey.

When they finally make it home in silence, Billy opens the door and takes a deep, shaky breath. Tommy shoots him a sideways look of frustration and helplessness, and Billy shrugs him off. 

Tommy grinds his teeth, but nods, and bursts into the kitchen with unnecessary aplomb, where he immediately starts bickering with Alex and Michael and generally making a ruckus. Billy takes the convenient opportunity to creep upstairs, where he gives his face a proper wash and changes his clothes. They’re still engaged in lively conversation when he pads back down, so he sidles into the den and claims the TV for the evening. Screw his History homework.

 

*

 

That’s where his dad finds him, thirty minutes later, half buried in the couch and a pile of blankets, humming along with Julie Andrews.

“Oh _dear_ ,” Jeff says, perching on the armrest, “A _Sound of Music_ night; it must be bad.”

Billy turns his head cautiously in his father’s direction. “It’s been a while,” he points out, “I could just be getting withdrawal.”

“True, true,” Jeff says solemnly, and makes a show of cleaning his glasses, presumably buying time to decide exactly what he’s going to say. His dad is nothing if not precise.

“I didn’t have the best day ever,” Billy says, finally, because there’s no point denying it. The evidence is very visual. 

Jeff nods slowly. “Your brother may have mentioned something along those lines.”

Of course he did. Billy sighs. “Right.”

“I think he feels responsible.” Jeff says, giving his glasses a final wipe. He slides them back on and gives Billy an awkward smile. “Because of last week’s, ah - event.”

“ _Oh,_ ” Billy says, and the giant lightbulb of stupidity above his head goes off. “No, he shouldn’t - I didn’t mean -”

Jeff shushes him, and adjusts himself so he’s sitting on the sofa proper. “Well, you should tell him that later. I’m just doing my duty as an interfering father and checking up on you. Can I see it?”

Billy raises an eyebrow. “I’m _fine_ , dad. It’s nothing.”

“I’m sure,” Jeff says mildly, “but as the only one here who actually _has_ a medical degree…”

Billy groans, pushes his hood back. “You did _not_ just play the medical degree card.”

“Two, actually.” Jeff grins. “So shut up and show me the gore.”

“Your bedside manner is awful,” Billy grumbles, but he shuffles closer and presents his face for inspection. “I don’t trust you at all.”

Jeff hums noncommittally, inspecting Billy’s face with soft fingers. “Did they give you ice for that?”

“Nope.” Billy shifts uncomfortably. “I just sort of stuck my face in the sink.”

“Ahh.” Jeff says delicately, but he doesn’t press for more details. 

“It’s fine.” Billy says again, because honestly, it doesn’t even hurt that much anymore, and he’s missing his favourite bit. 

“Do your old man a favour,” Jeff says, “and humour me, would you? It might not help all that much but it would make _me_ feel better if you’d let me clean this properly and maybe get some frozen peas in on the action, ok? Fatherly prerogative.”

“Sure.” Billy sighs, because he’s evidently not getting any peace until this is done, and his dad gives his face one last critical glance.

“Peas coming up,” he says, and ruffles Billy’s hair gently as he stands.

“I look forward to it,” Billy says, settling back down into his blanket nest. 

Jeff pauses at the doorway. “Billy,” he says, “if you need to talk-”

“I know, dad,” Billy says, rubbing his good eye wearily, “I do - I mean, thanks. I just.” He waves a hand at the screen desperately. “It’s a sing-it-all-out kind of thing, you know?”

“Very much so,” Jeff says dryly, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Please, sing away.”

He comes back with antiseptic cream, a bag of peas, and a sullen Tommy. The cream is generously applied, the peas firmly pressed into Billy’s hand, and Tommy is deposited at the opposite end of the couch as Jeff leaves.

He doesn’t want to have this conversation, he wants to watch the movie and forget about everything. He slaps the peas on his face, where they obscure his view of Tommy, and they watch the movie in more or less companionable silence. The peas slowly defrost, and Billy reluctantly removes them.

When it finishes, Billy is the first to break the silence. “Don’t feel guilty, or whatever, ok?” He mutters, a little ungraciously. “It’s not your fault.”

“Kinda is, though.” Tommy says, and he’s trying to make eye contact, Billy can _feel_ his gaze burning a hole in the side of his head. He refuses to look at him.

“Don’t be stupid.” Billy says dully, fidgeting with the remote, “I just give off some kind of loser pheromone, or something.”

Tommy edges closer, and Billy is surprised to find his eyes are getting kind of hot and unpleasantly prickly. It’s a very unwelcome feeling.

“It’s because I-”

“It’s not, though.” Billy sighs at the ceiling. “It’s just _me_. Nobody seems to get that it’s just _me_.”

Tommy awkwardly brushes his arm with his fingers. “Billy.”

“They can smell it on me-”

“Shut up.” Tommy says, not unkindly, and grabs Billy by the elbow. “Go to bed.”

Billy lets him lead him up the stairs and focuses on not dropping to the floor, flailing and bawling like a toddler, however appealing that may be. Tommy gives him a gentle shove towards his bed. 

“Careful with the invalid,” Billy mutters, but he climbs in fully clothed and closes his eyes. Tommy maybe says something; he’s not listening anymore. 

He hears the click of the door as Tommy pulls it closed, and then he’s asleep.

 

*

 

Billy looks like total shit, so going to lunch is out of the question. He looks _exactly_ like someone stamped on his face and weirdly enough, it’s not actually a good look for him. 

He has an unread email from Teddy, that is probably super nice, but he can’t bring himself to click on it. He also has another email from Kate, which he did read, which just says: “coffee after school?” He can’t bring himself to _reply_ to that one. Fantastic.

As aforementioned, stamped on the face isn’t a great look for him.

It’s not a sustainable plan, because it could take forever to heal, and he can’t just avoid everyone until it’s better, but damnit, he can _try_. He doesn’t really know what else to do.

The great thing about the school library is its esoteric layout, which means he can hunker down between the stacks and be completely hidden from view. He needn’t see anyone. His favourite space is where the end of the library was merged with half of an old classroom in a building remodel, so it pokes round the corner and is even more secluded. Unfortunately, it’s the science section, so he usually has to go foraging for books to take back there with him, but otherwise, it’s perfect.

Billy has settled down against the wall with a cheese sandwich and a historical time-slip novel (he’s comfort reading, ok?) and is just starting to relax when he gets a surprise - and somewhat unwanted - visitor.

It’s Teddy. Because of _course_ it’s Teddy.

Billy kind of shrinks into himself, tugging his hood closer and hugging his knees to his chest. Teddy doesn’t say a word, he just slides down onto the floor to sit to the right of him, the worst of Billy’s face angled away from him. Thank god for small mercies. There’s an inch between them and it makes Billy itch. He sneaks a sideways look, only to look quickly away when he finds Teddy is very much looking at _him_. 

“Hi,” Billy says weakly. “How are you?”

It’s not so much a real question as a desperate attempt at normalcy. It’s not even a very _good_ attempt at normalcy, because Billy’s terrible at small talk and forgets that conversations are generally opened in such a manner.

Teddy seems to take it as such. “I figured you’d be here.”

“Rumbled.” Billy lets his head fall back against the stack with a small thud. “Welcome to my crib.”

Teddy cracks a small smile. “I’m fine, by the way,” he says, fiddling with his shoelaces. “How’re you?”

Billy does a painful sort of harsh laugh, but otherwise doesn’t answer.

Teddy shuffles besides him. “We’re not very good at being honest with each other, are we?” He nudges Billy’s shoulder very gently, which is much appreciated, because he hurts everywhere. “Can we try?”

Billy throat feels strangely tight. “Sure.”

“Ok.” Teddy is tying and untying his shoelaces incessantly, and it’s kind of driving Billy crazy. “So, I _am_ a bit pissed you didn’t tell me your mom was _the_ _Scarlet Witch_.” 

Billy half closes his eyes, wincing. “Yeah, I-”

“Mostly because I could have _met_ her by now, and told her how _awesome_ she is.” Teddy says, and Billy smiles.

“She is pretty awesome.”

“I get it, though.” Teddy has pulled the laces out entirely from the last few pairs of eyelets, and is starting to re-lace them in a different formation. “I think I do, anyway. I’m not mad at you. I think _Nate_ might be mad at you, but he’ll get over it. Maybe.” 

“I’m sorry,” Billy says. “It’s just, with the whole thing-”

“I get it,” Teddy repeats. “Like we said, families are complicated, right?”

Billy nods. “Right.”

“And since we’re being honest,” Teddy says, wrapping a shoelace agitatedly round his finger, “I _was_ mad at you, for a bit, but it wasn’t for the right reasons. I’m sorry.”

Billy blinks at him. “What? No, don’t _apologise_ -”

“It just seemed unfair that you get _two_ awesome moms, and I get-” Teddy breaks off abruptly. He’s still distressing his shoelaces, so Billy reaches out slowly and puts his hand on top of Teddy’s. His fidgeting stops immediately, and there’s a brief moment of silence where Teddy looks unsure how to arrange his features. 

“You want to share?” Billy asks, joking and serious in equal measures. He gives Teddy’s fingers a quick squeeze before he can talk himself out of it. “Because Rebecca loved you, I’m pretty sure Wanda will too, and I know for a _fact_ I have an excess of moms.” 

Teddy smiles faintly, and Billy hopes desperately that was the right thing to say.

“Anyway,” Teddy says firmly, and Billy whips his hand back hurriedly. “You’re hiding from me.”

 _Again_ hovers unsaid, and Billy reaches up to pull his hood down over his eyes. “I’m not.”

Teddy nudges him softly with his elbow. “I thought we were being honest.”

Billy refuses to look at him. “I’m not _hiding_. I’m just removing my unsightly presence from places where people eat.” He sighs, shoves his hood back, and faces Teddy straight on. “I don’t want to put anyone off their food.”

Teddy winces at Billy’s face, but doesn’t look surprised, which isn’t completely unexpected. Billy briefly entertained the hope that Tommy wouldn’t mention it, but that was always somewhat futile. He pulls a face under Teddy’s scrutiny and retreats back into the comfort of his hood.

“ _Billy._ ” Teddy says, and it feels like that’s all anyone says to him, these days. His name, over and over, with layers of pity and sympathy and so many things he categorically _does not want_. He wants to tell Teddy this. He wants to lean into him and maybe cry for about a week. He does neither. 

“It’s fine,” he ends up saying, “shit happens.”

“How often?” Teddy asks, a little sharply. He’s definitely been talking to Tommy.

Billy groans. “I don’t know. Sometimes. Does it matter?”

“Well, yeah.” Teddy sounds somewhat perplexed. “It _matters_.” He leans against Billy’s shoulder. “You’re our squishy healer, and we need to look out for you. Don’t pull any mobs without me, idiot.”

Billy laughs. “Stupid me.”

“Yes,” Teddy says, and he fixes Billy with an incongruously serious look. “No one can solo high school, you know that?”

Billy is still  floundering for a response to that when the bell rings for fifth period. Teddy tucks his feet back underneath him and stands up, offering Billy a hand. He takes it, and lets Teddy haul him up. 

“So stop _trying_ to.” Teddy says with great sincerity, and Billy falls a little bit in love with him right then and there. “You have friends, you idiot.”

Billy smiles shyly at his feet. “For an inspirational speech, you’re calling me an idiot quite a lot.”

“You _are_ an idiot quite a lot,” Teddy says with a grin, “just calling it like it is.”

“Some friend you are,” Billy says, but he’s grinning too. “Are you free after school? Do you want-”

Teddy’s face falls. “Oh, crap, I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“No worries.”

“I’m going round to David’s,” Teddy says brightly, “he’s doing this thing and he’s letting me try - anyway, it’ll be fun.”

Billy tries for a genuine smile. “Awesome.”

“I’ll catch you later?” 

“Sure,” Billy says, and makes a big fuss of packing up his stuff as Teddy turns to leave. “Catch you later.”

Maybe he’s just an idiot, but it feels like a kick in the face, and he’s had more than enough of those recently.

 

*

 

Kate is waiting for him outside the gates, because of course she is. Apparently everyone knows _exactly_ where to find Billy precisely when he doesn’t want to be found. She’s leaning against the wall with her sunglasses on the top of her hood, glaring at every passing kid who dares to glance her way. 

When she spots Billy, she grabs him by the front of his hoodie and drags him round the corner, where she deposits him by the wall with an appraising look.

“You didn’t reply to my email.” She folds her arms. “So I came to collect you.”

“Kate,” Billy protests weakly, “look, I’ve had a shitty week and I don’t feel-”

“Which is _exactly_ why you need this coffee date.” Kate says, firmly but kindly, even reaching out to give his wrist a squeeze. “They did a number on you, huh?”

Billy leans against the wall with a miserable sigh. “I don’t feel much like parading it round in public, to be honest.”

“Now that,” Kate says, “I _can_ fix.” She unzips her bag and starts producing a fascinating array of tubes and brushes.

“What are you -”

“ _Shush._ ” She glares at him. “Stay _still_.”

Billy freezes obediently and Kate dabs at him with her fingers and something cool. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Nah,” she says, smearing something with delicate care around his left eye. “I can see why you’d keep it quiet.”

“Everyone hates me.”

“Yep,” Kate says cheerfully, “which is why I’m across the other side of town taking your sorry ass for coffee. Because I _hate_ you.”

“Nate hates me,” Billy continues mournfully, “Teddy hates me-”

“If you really think that, you’re stupider than I thought.” Kate says dryly, liberally spreading something across Billy’s face with a brush. It tickles. “Nate doesn’t hate you, he just needs a few days to… process. Probably.” She stands back, gives his face an approving look. “There.”

“Let me see-” Billy grabs the compact mirror she holds out towards him and inspects his reflection with increasing awe. “That’s - wow. Amazing.” He prods his left eye experimentally - it still hurts, of course, what was he expecting? - but it looks practically normal. “What is this witchcraft?”

“The secret art of the Bishop clan.” Kate rolls her eyes, and retrieves the mirror. “Passed down through generations of idiots who enjoy contact sports. I’ll show you sometime. Now can we get coffee, please?”

Billy is happy to let her wind her fingers through his and lead him to a place a few blocks away. She buys him something ridiculously strong, and instead of sitting opposite him, shuffles on the sofa right along next to him so their knees are touching. It’s nice, and he leans into her with a sigh.

“Can I start whining about my life yet?”

“Whine away.” Kate gives his knee a teasing squeeze. “As promised, your sassy straight friend is here to help. Or, well. To listen, mock, and nod, as appropriate.”

“My life sucks.”

“I’d give that, like, three out of ten.” Kate says. “Unconstructive, way too general. You need to up your whining game.”

Billy blinks at her. “I didn’t know I was being _assessed_.”

“I could get you started,” Kate says, with a wicked grin, “how about when Teddy was in your bedroom for hours and hours and you didn’t use _any_ of my Chemistry pick up lines-”

“Stop,” Billy groans, “I don’t want to talk about it. I literally want to erase that _entire evening_ from my memory, forever.”

Kate bites back a grin. “You could just ask him, you know.”

“Ask him what?”

“Out. On a date.” She shrugs. “That’s how it normally goes.”

“I did.” Billy says feebly. “But he’s seeing David tonight.”

“You _did_?” Kate mimes complete and utter shock, clutching dramatically at her chest. “Like, actually?”

“Well,” Billy squints at his feet, “sort of…”

“Which means?” Kate asks, tapping her fingernails impatiently on the side of her coffee. 

“I asked if he was free tonight-”

“Oh, _Billy_.” Kate shakes her head. “That doesn’t even count, you idiot.”

Billy lets his head drop onto her shoulder. Everyone’s calling him an idiot today. It’s becoming a theme. “I’m a disaster.”

“Yeah,” Kate agrees cheerfully, but she ruffles his hair gently. “But we love you anyway.”

Because Kate is magic and Billy is pathetic, she steers the conversation away from his life, and into other, safer areas. They finish their coffee and Billy stifles a yawn.

“Are you _tired_? After drinking _that_?” Kate glares at him. “You should be energized.”

“I’m always energized,” Billy mumbles, “this sofa is just really squishy.”

“You’d better be,” Kate says, “because we’re going to get my name back.”

That wakes him up. “What?”

“You didn’t think I dragged you out here just to listen to you whine, did you?” Kate just grabs his hand and grins at him. “Butt into gear, Kaplan, I have a plan and you are my wingman.”

Billy has a _really_ bad feeling about this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you a bazillion million billions for all the nice comments so far! <3 I hope this chapter wasn't too much of a disgrace, I kept rereading it and tearing my hair out but there you go. If you sit on a thing too long I think you go a bit nuts.
> 
> Aaaaaand this chapter brings us to the end of the stuff I've been sitting on for a while, so the next update will be a bit longer! (Not sure how long, I have a busy few weeks ahead of me. Sorry!) As always, you can find me on the [tumblr thing](http://sciencefictionbaby.tumblr.com) and I can try keep you up to date?


	4. iv. Wipe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a scandal and a party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is truly ridiculous. I'd apologise, but you must know what you're getting into by now!
> 
> (Also, some mild underage drinking ahoy. Just so you know!)

Billy met Kate while killing dragons, as you do. Before he started playing games which involved killing dragons, Billy had a very romantic vision of a dragon-slaying scenario. He imagined doing battle with a ferocious beast against a dramatic backdrop, with lots of raising swords aloft, inspirational battle cries, and general bravery and fortitude. Afterwards, he would take his helmet off and stand for a moment of respectful silence where the beast lay felled. It was all very grand. In reality, there are two types of dragon slaying: the type where you swear a lot and mash buttons, and the kind where you nearly fall asleep on your keyboard as you repetitively farm dragon after dragon in the vague hope of an incredibly rare drop. Neither lends itself to the kind of epic introspection Billy used to imagine. 

He met Kate doing the second. Billy gave up after two hours but ended up staying all night on the chat channel encouraging her ceaseless determination. There’s a very special kind of bond to be had from pulling an all nighter with a stranger until you’re so exhausted you can’t do anything but giggle. 

The point is: Kate laughs in the face of 1 in 8000 drop rates, and is thus a person to be feared and revered. Billy’s not about to stand in the way of a force of nature, so when Kate jabs a determined finger at his face and tells him to take her to where Clint lives, he shoots Tommy a desperate text asking him to explain his absence, and then hops to it. Pronto.

“I can’t come in with you," he says, relieved to have an out. He even tries his best to look disappointed about it. “He’ll recognise me.”

Kate dismisses that with a careless wave. “You’re my _wingman_. I need you for moral support.”

Billy glances up to check the windows of Clint’s apartment frantically. “Kate, he _can’t_ see me, he really can’t-”

“I know, Billy, don’t have histrionics,” she says, far too amused by his distress to be comforting, and grabs him by the arm. “I just need to figure out how to get you in there, I need you to witness it.”

“Witness _what_?”

“My glorious victory, obviously.” Kate smacks him in the arm. 

“What if it’s not a glorious victory?” Billy sniffs, rubbing his arm. “What if I just end up witnessing your shameful defeat?”

“Well, hopefully not, _but_.” Kate twists her mouth. “That’s why I brought you, dummy.” She bumps her shoulder with his.

“Oh, I get it,” Billy says mournfully, but he’s starting to smile. “There’s no shame in shaming yourself in front of little old _me_.”

“Pretty much.” Kate flashes him a vibrant grin. “What are best friends for?”

Something warm washes through him, and he looks up again with renewed purpose. “Ok, so what’s the plan?”

“Second floor.” Kate taps her lips thoughtfully. “That’s not too high.”

“Too high - wait, what?”

“Single glazing - our boy’s a cheapskate - so you can probably hear everything.” Kate says. “The window ledges are pretty wide.”

“ _No_.” Billy says, “My life is not a John Hughes movie, and I don’t scale walls.”

“Please,” she says, and tries to look forlorn. It doesn’t suit her, nor is it particularly convincing. “I need back up.”

“What would I do, exactly? Burst in through the window heroically and fend him off with my puny attempts at combat?” He throws his hands up. “Squishy healer type, remember?”

“I’m not exactly melee, either,” Kate says, as if that settles anything. “We tried ranged, now we’re trying something new.”

Billy groans. “I don’t like new things, I like old things. I like routine and safely and _solid ground_ -”

“Time to live dangerously, Billy,” Kate smirks, and then she’s already through the door and presumably ready to press Clint’s buzzer, and thus expecting Billy to be in position.

Right. _Fine_.

If Billy’s life is really turning into a John Hughes movie, then he is at least determined not to be the comic relief. He will be the plucky protagonist. He will scale this wall with competence and poise. He eyes it with trepidation, and more than a little determination, which he can only attribute to spending far too much time with Kate. 

He didn’t sign up for this. He signed up for a few casual flex raids a week and maybe some light socialising in the chat channel, not scaling _actual_ walls and _oh my god_ , that feels a lot higher than he expected. The windowsill extends a little beyond the boundaries of the window itself, so Billy perches himself with a very small whimper just out of view from the room inside. Now all he has to worry about is looking like an exceptionally inept burglar to anyone who might be passing by. Luckily, it’s a quiet alley.

Oh, and trying not to fall off and grievously wound himself, of course. There's always that.

He flattens himself against the wall and listens intently. There’s a faint buzzing sound, and footsteps. He wishes he could see it; Kate waiting outside the door with her arms folded, her trademark look of unimpressed disdain. Clint won’t know what to do with _that_.

“Can I… help?” Clint says, sounding utterly nonplussed. 

“Hi,” Kate says flatly. “You stole my name.” Billy hears footsteps; she has evidently invited herself in. He sneaks a ninja peek round the edge of the window to see Clint trailing into the living room after her, mouth half open in an unformed protest. “I’d like it back,” Kate continues, “because I won it fair and square, and besides, it suits me better.” She pauses briefly. “Also, however you stole it - it was _probably_ a little bit illegal. So yeah.” There’s a clatter that sounds incredibly like Kate sticking her feet up on his coffee table. “Name, please.”

Clint seems momentarily lost for words. “Wow. I - how do you know where I live?”

Kate chews her gum obnoxiously. “I have contacts.” Billy rather likes being referred to as ‘contacts’, especially while dangling from a semi-high ledge on a mission of semi-important espionage. 

“Right.” Clint exhales sharply. “Right, ok - well, it’s a shame after you’ve put so much effort into _stalking me and inviting yourself into my home_ , but the name stays. Sorry, kid.”

This isn’t unexpected. Clint was never going to just give in; Kate has a few more cards to play.

“The thing is, Clint,” Kate says sweetly, and he makes an alarmed noise as she uses his name, “I’m pretty sure Steve would be really disappointed to find out that you got your old name back like this. I think he _might_ have a thing or two to say about that.”

“Yeah, probably,” Clint says, sounding completely unrepentant, “but he’d also be pretty pissed to find out you and your little friends have been picking on me for _weeks_ , right? I mean, it wouldn’t help your case, exactly…”

Oh, no. This is _not_ part of the plan.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Kate says stubbornly, and Billy admires her tenacity despite the futility of the situation. “I’ve done nothing.”

“Also the whole _tracking me down_ thing, I personally find that pretty fucking concerning. I mean, uh - ah, crap - how old even _are_ you? Pretend I didn’t swear.”

Kate sniggers. “Sure. But I’m not leaving without my name.”

Clint sighs, long and weary. Billy almost feels sorry for him. 

“There’s only one way to settle this,” Clint says finally, and he crosses the room with impatient footsteps. “And that’s Mario Kart.”

“Oh no,” Billy whispers to himself, “Oh, Kate, you’re not ready-”

“Fine!” Kate snaps. “Let’s shake on it. Winner takes the Hawkeye name, and loser-”

“ - loser is honour bound not to go running to Cap like a tattle tale.” Clint sounds proud of himself for working that clause in. “It ends here, on Rainbow Road.” 

Billy hears Kate leap to her feet and grab Clint’s hand with a forceful slap. “Deal.” Presumably, they shake on it. Outside, Billy lets out a quiet groan. 

“Excellent,” Clint says, and there’s the soft sound of them both sitting back down on the sofa. Billy hides his face in his hands. He can’t even bear to _listen_ to what is about to happen. It's a mixed blessing that he can't see.

They briefly bicker over who gets to play Peach, Kate winning because she is, in her own words, ‘the guest’. Clint gives in rather ungraciously and with a lot of under-the-breath muttering. 

At first, Billy hears a lot of high-pitched ‘yay’s and ‘yahoo’s from Peach, and he almost dares hope that this won’t end in total disaster. But then the distressed squeals start.

“Best of three, “ he hears Kate say, and that’s when he knows she’s not only going to _lose_ , but she’s going to lose spectacularly and without any dignity left whatsoever.

It's over very quickly.

Clint doesn’t bother apologising; it would only make it worse. She storms out his apartment gracelessly, which is Billy’s cue to shimmy back down from the windowsill. In truth, it's less of a shimmy and more an inelegant scramble. Semantics.

Kate slams the door behind her and looks worryingly near tears. Or maybe just near smashing something. It’s hard to tell. She grinds her teeth.

“Kate?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She huffs, folding her arms. 

“Blue shell?” Billy says sympathetically, reaching out nervously. 

“Red. _Then_ blue. Shit.” Kate kicks at the dirt. “I had him, for a few minutes I actually had him-”

“I know.” Billy pulls her in for a hug. “Rainbow Road is cruel and unusual.”

Kate sniffs. “What kind of dick picks that track, anyway?” She clings to him. “I really wanted that stupid name. It’s _mine_.”

“We’ll think of something.” Billy rubs her back soothingly. “Or, at least - we’ll come up with something better than Sporkeye.”

Kate snorts, and presses something small and cylindrical into his hand as she breaks the hug.

“Don’t overdo it, it’ll look weird if you magically heal overnight,” she says. “Just take the edge off; it’ll make you feel better.”

Billy closes his fingers round the tube. “Thank you.” Somehow, it will make him feel better. Like he’s more than an obligingly bruised bag of flesh. “How do I-”

“Just put a bunch on your face.” Kate shrugs. “Smudge it a bit.”

“Sounds technical.”

“You want technical, go to YouTube,” she grumbles, but she gives his wrist a soft squeeze. “Look after yourself, ok?”

“Sure,” Billy says, unable to quite meet her eyes. She’s been so nice to him it’s a little overwhelming. “No more parkour.”

“Right,” she says, squinting at him. “Or, you know, getting kicked in the face.”

“Kate-”

“I get it, you don’t want to talk about it.” She shrugs carelessly, but her expression is anything but careless. 

Billy gives her the brightest smile he can muster. “I’m fine. Really.”

He forgets to look back and check Clint’s window.

 

*

 

“Wow,” Tommy says, as Billy lets himself in through the door. “Did your superpowers come in?”

Billy stares at him. “What?”

“Your face.” Tommy points at it. “Super healing, huh?”

Billy rubs at his eye. “I’d better wash it off before I get mom’s hopes up.”

Tommy snickers and follows him through to the bathroom, chewing at his lip thoughtfully. “Kate?”

“Yeah.” Billy sticks his face in the sink. The make-up seems surprisingly keen to stay stuck to his face. He scrubs vigorously. “She made me presentable, and we had coffee.”

“Fun,” Tommy says vaguely, perching on the edge of the bath. Billy turns to raise an eyebrow at him; he’s proficient enough at Tommy-ese to tease out the echo of jealousy. Which is fairly ridiculous, in this particular situation. 

Kate didn’t _tell_ him not to tell anyone.

“We went to Clint’s.” Billy leans over the sink to examine himself in the mirror, purple beginning to blossom again. “She wanted her name back.”

“He _saw_ you?”

“Nope.” Billy grins. “I hid outside on the windowsill.”

Tommy looks a little taken aback. “You did? Okay.” It might be wishful thinking, but he _thinks_ Tommy looks sort of impressed with him. “Did he give it back?”

“No.” Billy stares glumly at his reflection. “There was a particularly brutal game of Mario Kart, and - well, you know how he is on Rainbow Road.”

“Godly.”

“Pretty much.”

“That sucks,” Tommy pulls a face. “What’s she going to do?”

“Dunno.” Billy says, shrugging. “I’ll guess she’ll need a new name.”

“Hmm,” Tommy says, in a way that worries Billy immensely.

“What are you thinking?” He jabs a finger at his brother. “Stop it. Stop thinking it. I can tell you’re having a really bad idea, and you need to stop.”

“I’m not thinking anything,” Tommy says mildly, which does absolutely nothing to assuage Billy’s fears.

“Please don’t do anything stupid,” he says weakly, for all the good it’ll do. It’s not like Tommy _listens_ to him. 

 

*

 

Later, in his room, Billy sits in front of his desktop, stares down the login screen and bites his nails. He can’t face it. Not tonight. 

Instead, he opens up his email and eyes the unread one from Teddy earlier. (There’s another from Kate, that says simply: ‘Hawkingbird?’ Billy pulls a face and shoots back ‘ew no’.) He skims the email from Teddy. As expected, it’s just… really _nice_. There’s a long, cheerful paragraph about how cool he thinks Wanda is, and how cool it is that Wanda is his mom, and it makes Billy smile. It ends with a heart-felt ‘I hope you’re ok!’ and Billy lets his head fall into his desk with a gentle thump.

He tries not to think about David and Teddy hanging out, and he forces himself not to check David’s livestream, because that way lies misery. He send Teddy a ridiculous email detailing his adventures with Kate, exaggerating wildly in the hope Teddy will read it and laugh.

He has no idea what to do with himself if he’s not going online, so he pads through to the bathroom and tries his hand at artfully reducing the bruise on his face with some of Kate’s magic goop. It makes him feel like total crap.

“Something’s got to change,” he tells his reflection firmly, but he doesn’t quite know what. Mirror Billy looks back at him with resignation.

 

*

 

Teddy comes to meet him at his locker, in a new and strange turn of events that Billy isn’t entirely sure he’s comfortable with. He slams his locker shut and pins his back against it, casting nervous looks up and down the corridor. After all, the last time he had a visitor -

Teddy raises an eyebrow. “You ok?”

Billy’s being ridiculous, of course, so he forces a nervous laugh. “Sorry, I’m kind of late.”

“For lunch?” Teddy gives him a look that makes Billy squirm. 

“I’m hungry.” He fiddles with his bag, sneaks a surreptitious look behind him. “Should we-”

“What’s his problem with you?” Teddy says, and Billy feels himself deflate. He could lie. He’s probably going to lie.

“I’m bad at sports,” he says shortly, shoving his hand in his pockets. 

“So am I,” Teddy says, which Billy does not believe for one _second_ because Teddy can get his balled-up napkin in the trash from 10 meters away without fail, but whatever. “So are lots of people.”

“Yeah, well.” He scuffs at the floor. He could tell the truth. His pathetic existence is pretty much out in full view, anyway, what’s one more reveal? “There was an incident.”

“An incident?” Teddy leans against the locker beside him. “A sports related incident?”

“Not exactly.” Billy mutters. “An incident involving, um, Jimmy Stidham, and the sports cupboard, and-”

“Oh my god,” Teddy says, fighting a smile. “I think I’ve heard this story - that was _you_?”

Billy groans, and buries his face in his hands. “Probably not the version you heard. We - it - I’ve made better decisions.”

Not many, come to think if it, but at least he learned discretion. Well. Learned _of_.

Teddy is having even less luck wrestling with his grin now. “Did you _really_ -”

“God, no,” Billy says, “nothing that good.”

Teddy’s eyebrows shoot up, and he starts laughing. “Define ‘good’.”

“Shut _up_ ,” Billy says, flushing furiously. “I mean scandalous. Nothing that _scandalous_.”

“And the hockey sticks?”

“Oh, wow,” Billy rubs his eyes. “I hadn’t heard that one. What am I supposedly doing with - you know what, I don’t want to know.”

“You don’t,” Teddy agrees, and they glance towards each other with identical expressions of amused bewilderment, which sets them both off into peals of laughter. Teddy tries to apologise, for Billy waves it off. It’s nice to see the funny side, for once.

“My life is ridiculous,” Billy groans, letting his head bang against the lockers. “The universe is laughing at me.”

Teddy’s smile fades, and he gives Billy a serious look. “If that’s why-” he gestures to Billy’s face, “- then that’s pretty shitty.” 

“I - yeah.” Billy sighs, and finds he has to look away. “Sometimes I’m not sure if it is. I mean, I actually _do_ suck at sports, and that’s what starts it. I think I was just already accepted as a figure of ridicule?” He picks at his nails. “I don’t think it _matters_ what I did. It’s just me. I’m just that kid.” He dares to give Teddy a quick, apologetic glance. “And you shouldn’t be near me; it’s contagious. I don’t want your life to suck, too.”

Teddy looks mildly horrified. “You can’t really think that.”

“Think what? That it’s contagious, or that I’m a predetermined loser?” Billy hoists his bag into his shoulder. “They’re both true. Come on, we should go, Kessler’s doing the rounds soon-”

“Billy,” Teddy says, catching him by the arm. “We should talk about this.”

Billy catches a glimpse down the corridor of a horribly familiar face. “Fine, whatever, but can we _please_ go?”

Teddy follows his line of sight. “ I think we should stay.”

Billy wriggles in his grip. “I appreciate that you’re trying to help, but you’re _not_ helping, ok? Tommy tried, and you saw how that panned out.” Billy gestures at his face, perhaps a little cruelly.

Teddy flinches, but doesn’t move. “I’m not suggesting we beat the crap out of him!”

“What _are_ you suggesting then?” Billy snaps, feeling frantic and more than a little trapped. “Should we make nice? Have a friendly chat?”

Teddy rolls his eyes. Billy is building up steam to shoot down whatever Teddy’s stupid idea is, but ends up instead blinking at him in bewilderment. It’s not _quite_ what he was expecting. “You should kiss me.”

“I - wait, what?” Ok, so he’s clearly in an extremely elaborate hallucination. Something has finally snapped, and his brain has lost its feeble grip on reality. “Excuse me?”

“Or a fake stage kiss, whatever.” The tips of Teddy’s ears are _ever_ so slightly pink, and all Billy can do is gape at him. “As long as it looks real.”

He flounders for a response, and settles on the wildly irrelevant: “What would you know about stage kissing?” 

Teddy snorts. “School production. _The Sound of Music_.”

“Oh my god, who were you?” Billy lets out a very embarrassing noise and grabs the front of Teddy’s shirt. “This is extremely important information to me.”

“ _Billy_.” Teddy glances over his shoulder. “Are we doing this? You don’t have to, I just think a bit of scandal might do you good.”

Billy just gawps at him. “Scandal?”

“No hockey sticks this time,” Teddy promises, his eyes dancing with amusement. “And more witnesses means a more reliable account, right?”

What Billy _should_ say is: no, Teddy, you don’t have to pretend to kiss me to try and make my life a little bit better. He _should_ laugh it off and make himself scarce so he can avoid Kessler in his usual manner.He _should_ say it’s a stupid idea, and he doesn’t want to ruin Teddy’s life by association, but what comes out is: “Do you think?”

He’s a terrible, terrible person. He’s pretty sure the expression on his face says something mortifyingly like ‘please kiss me right now before I expire’, though, judging by the way Teddy is moving closer. 

“Ok,” Teddy says, “we should, um.”

Billy laughs breathlessly, still clinging onto the front of Teddy’s shirt for dear life. “The thing, we should - the thing.” 

One of Teddy’s hands hovers uncertainly somewhere near Billy’s shoulder. “Oh god, I’m sorry, this is weird, isn’t it?”

Billy can practically _smell_ what Teddy had for breakfast on his breath and thinks he might pass out. “Actually, not that weird,” he says before he can stop himself, and Teddy smiles. He hasn’t see his smile up this close before.

“Right,” Teddy says decisively, “I’ll do the thumb thing.” His hand comes up to Billy’s face, his thumb across his mouth. 

“Huh?”

“It looks real, but we don’t have to actually - yeah. My thumb's in the way.”

“Does that even work?” Billy mutters from behind the thumb, as Teddy’s lips brush against it. “Ok, this _is_ a bit weird. I feel like a third wheel in a torrid romance with your thumb.”

“It works better if you don’t talk,” Teddy say, and Billy can actually feel him smiling which is so far from something he ever expected to experience, he feels a little dizzy.

His defence mechanism, as always, is to babble. “Wow, you didn’t think I’d ever actually shut up, did you?” 

“This isn’t working,” Teddy says, and Billy makes a small noise of agreement, expecting him to pull back and abort their scandalous mission. It would almost be a relief, seeing as how he feels like he’s about to burst into flame.

Instead, Teddy leans back into the fake kiss, which suddenly becomes disorientingly, bizarrely real. His thumb slip out of the way, and somehow, beyond all Billy’s powers of reasoning and logic, they are actually touching lips and nothing in this world makes even a little bit of sense. Well, ok then.

Perhaps Teddy means to keep it as tentatively impersonal as he can, but Billy just kind of… goes for it. Because fuck it, that’s why. Because he has no sense of self preservation, and because Teddy told him to make it look _real_. (Maybe that last one isn’t precisely true, but it’s a good excuse as far as they go.)

Whether or not Kessler sees him is pretty much the least important thing to have ever occurred to him in his entire life. Dr Pym’s classroom is just across the hall, but he can’t even bring himself to worry about that. He wonders if he’d give them detention. Is this considered indecent corridor behaviour? It would be worth it.

He’d feel bad about his unbridled enthusiasm if it weren’t for the fact that Teddy has also dropped the impersonal thing he had going earlier, and it feels toe-curlingly real. Billy can’t for the life of him work out how real it actually _is_ , but either way, Teddy isn’t objecting - far from it - and Billy isn’t about to make it stop.

Which is basically how Billy ends up all but glued to the most wonderful person he has ever met for a whole two minutes with their hand on the back of his neck while they bite down gently on his lip, and he would laugh if didn’t think he might also cry.

Then Teddy half stumbles away, Billy still clutching his top in a death grip, and they both look a little bit stupefied. “Wow, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I just did that.” Teddy sounds how Billy feels, that is: confused and slightly horrified. Probably for different reasons.

“Good scandal,” Billy says weakly, and peels his fingers from Teddy’s shirt and makes a show of smoothing it down. It’s a lost cause; he’s crumpled it quite badly with his desperate clinging. “You, um.” People are probably watching them. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” Teddy says, blinking down at where Billy is feebly patting at his clothes. Billy lets go quickly. “God, I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising,” Billy says, “ _I_ should be apologising.” There is a weird, crushing weight settling over him, and he leans back against the locker to steady himself. 

“Well, he didn’t stop, anyway,” Teddy says, and they’re back on steadier ground. Billy makes an unsure noise, and Teddy leans against him encouragingly. He might explode. If any vague form of physical contact is going to do this to him from now on, they have officially ruined their friendship. Billy winces.

“Is that good?”

“Probably,” Teddy says cheerfully, and Billy examines his face for any sign of pinkness, finding none. “He definitely saw us, thought. So that’s good!”

Billy groans. “I’m so sorry. Everyone’s going to think you kissed me.”

“Well, I did,” Teddy points out reasonably, and there’s maybe a _hint_ of pink high up on his cheeks, so perhaps he’s not as preternaturally unperturbed as he seems. “Also, that’s kind of the point.”

Billy covers his face with his hands, and peeks out at Teddy from between his fingers. “I can’t believe I’m letting you do this to yourself.”

“Look, Billy,” Teddy says, and he’s doing his devastatingly sincere and serious voice again, “I transferred here when I was done with all the embarrassing shit that haunts you for the rest of high school, right? I got to show up with a lot of stuff sorted out, and people like me, because they don’t have to worry about how much of a loser I used to be.”

Billy half nods. “Right?”

“I’m just - I’m trying to share it with you.” Teddy says, looking plaintive. “Because it’s weird that I _don’t_ have to worry about it, and I think it might actually work like that. I think I can share it with you, a little bit. Hey, also - ” he continues, in a rush of words that sound almost nervous. “ - looks like I came out with a bang, huh?”

“I’ve ruined your life.” Billy drags his hand down his face in despair. “I am so, _so_ sorry.”

“Not even close,” Teddy says, and he huffs a laugh, guiding Billy away from the lockers. “So, lunch?”

“Lunch.” Billy agrees, although he’s not sure he’s going to be able to face Tommy. He’ll _know_. He has a sixth sense for Billy’s terrible decisions.

“Good scandal, “ Teddy says solemnly, and holds up his hand.

Billy gives him a shaky high five. “Good scandal.”

Whatever the hell Teddy means by that. It’s been firmly established that Billy will take all he can get.

 

*

 

They’re both really weird at lunch, to Tommy’s frustration. Teddy manages to keep a decent conversation going, but Billy is pretty much AWOL.

He is sending Kate a message under the table on his phone, saying: _I am dead I am done for go on without me_ when Tommy leans over and flicks his nose. 

“ _Billy_. Where the hell are you today?” He says, and Billy jumps to attention.

“What?” He tries not to look guilty. “Sorry, I was just messaging Kate.”

Teddy looks up at him slowly from underneath his eyelashes, and Billy flushes from head to toe.

“About her new name,” Billy says frantically, with the over-enthusiasm of a terrible liar. “Anyone got any ideas?”

That keeps them going for a bit, and Billy determinedly avoids meeting anyone’s eyes. Tommy, because he smells a rat, and Teddy, for a thousand different complicated reasons.

 

*

 

[Sporkeye] whispers : OMG YOURE ONLINE

[Sporkeye] whispers : excellent

[Sporkeye] whispers: now do you care to explain what happened after that mysterious little text

To [Sporkeye] : I think I fucked up

[Sporkeye] whispers : oh dear

To [Sporkeye] : kate i am done for

[Sporkeye] whispers: so you said

To [Sporkeye] : do I have to tell you or can I just get generic sympathy

[Sporkeye] whispers : nope I need juicy details

[Sporkeye] whispers : did you confess your undying love

[Sporkeye] whispers : fall into his lap??

[Sporkeye] whispers : photo of him fall out your locker?

[Sporkeye] whispers: cmon billy help me out here

To [Sporkeye] : I think I may have kissed him under false pretences

[Sporkeye] whispers : false pretences?

To [Sporkeye] : he told me to

To [Sporkeye] : wait no this doesnt sound

To [Sporkeye] : it was much more dubious than it sounds

[Sporkeye] whispers : do you know how much i want to smack you both in the face sometimes

To [Sporkeye] : no i swear it was not that simple 

To [Sporkeye] : it was just supposed to be fake 

To [Sporkeye] : IT WASNT FAKE KATE IT WAS NOT FAKE

[Sporkeye] whispers : I DO NOT SEE THE PROBLEM

To [Sporkeye] : IT WAS A STAGE KISS

[Sporkeye] whispers : i s2g you need to sort your shit out right now before i go to an early grave because youre both so fucking useless i will just keel over from frustration

To [Sporkeye] : no nonono you are not understanding the situation

[Sporkeye] whispers : please do explain.

To [Sporkeye] : the situation is

To [Sporkeye] : we were staging a kiss for political reasons

[Sporkeye] whispers : political. reasons.

To [Sporkeye] :  YES

To [Sporkeye] : and his thumb was supposed to be in the way but then it wasn’t

To [Sporkeye] : and it was indecent

To [Sporkeye] : and now i can’t look anyone in the eye because i am an awful person

[Sporkeye] whispers : billy

[Sporkeye] whispers : i have no idea what you’re talking about

[Sporkeye] whispers: youre just making noises

[Sporkeye] whispers : when you should probably be on his doorstep like 5 weeks ago demanding boyfriend rights

To [Sporkeye] : he does not want to be my boyfriend

[Sporkeye] whispers : you sure?

To [Sporkeye] : yes

To [Sporkeye] : he wants to be david’s boyfriend

[Sporkeye] whispers : which is why he was kissing you, i’m sure

To [Sporkeye] : IT WAS A FAKE KISS, DID I NOT EXPLAIN THIS

[Sporkeye] whispers : oh my god

[Sporkeye] whispers : right you just 

[Sporkeye] whispers : just stop right there

[Sporkeye] whispers : i’m going to fix everything for you

[Sporkeye] whispers : I’m going to have a party this weekend and everyone is going to come

[Sporkeye] whispers : and you’re going to wear your glad rags

To [Sporkeye] : no glad rags

To [Sporkeye] : can i just wear a tshirt or something

[Sporkeye] whispers : GLAD.

[Sporkeye] whispers :  RAGS.

[Sporkeye] whispers : and you will be eating face by the end of the evening i guarantee it

To [Sporkeye] :  no

[Sporkeye] whispers : YES

[Sporkeye] whispers :  see what a good friend I am

To [Sporkeye] : kate if you think throwing me a party is a good idea 

To [Sporkeye] : i have to wonder if you ever truly knew me

[Sporkeye] whispers : shhh we need it. we’re soothing over guild tensions with twister and singstar

[Sporkeye] whispers : you owe me

To [Sporkeye] : I dangled precariously  on a high windowsill for nearly an hour for you

[Sporkeye] whispers : ok so we’re even

[Sporkeye] whispers : you can thank me from teddy’s lap

 

*

 

Kate’s parents are away, and her house is beyond enormous, so it’s a perfect recipe for a scene straight out of a teen movie. There will be _punch_. This does not instill Billy with confidence in the evening ahead of him. He doesn’t have the best record when it comes to large gathering of his peers, and besides, he watched _Mean Girls_ that one time. Parties are bad news.

Tommy bullies him into a button-down while he has a minor break-down in his room.

“I’m not going.”

“You’re going.” Tommy grabs him by the arms and looks down at his shirt critically. “You’ve buttoned it up wrong.”

“See? I’m a disaster. I can’t go anywhere.” He hangs his arms uselessly at this sides while Tommy sighs at length and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Just - stay _still_.” Tommy starts fixing his buttons, and Billy feels about five years old. 

“Tommy, I’m being serious. I can’t go.”

“And why is that, exactly?” Tommy says sharply. He’s mad. Of course he’s mad. He knows there’s something Billy isn’t telling him, and he might even know _what_ it is, if the rumour mill travels fast enough.

“There was an incident,” Billy says, because apparently that’s becoming his favourite phrase. “Bad decisions were made.”

Tommy keeps looking at him quizzically, so he evidently _hasn’t_ heard. Billy doesn’t have the energy to tell him. “A Teddy incident?”

Billy fidgets with his sleeves. “Mm.”

“Fine, _don’t_ tell me.” Tommy says, clearly hurt. “No one tells me anything. But if you don’t, you’re not getting any sympathy.”

“I don’t want sympathy, I want to stay at home and just - just-”

“Sulk?” Tommy folds his arms. “Mope? Moon and/or pine?”

Billy sniffs. “Shut up.”

“Well, tough shit.” Tommy gives Billy’s collar a too-firm tug. “We’re going.”

“We’re not a unit.”

“Yeah, we are,” Tommy says, and he grins. “We’re a multipack. Buy one get one free.”

“Half price, please.” Billy smiles at his feet. “Give me a little dignity.”

“Dignity?” Tommy’s grin turns sharp and more than a little gleeful. “I’m under strict instruction from Kate to get you at least a little bit drunk, so maybe not so much.”

“You’re taking orders now, are you?” Billy narrows his eyes, and Tommy ignores him. He needs to have a word with Kate. “I don’t want to be drunk.”

“She thinks it’ll be good for you.”

“Hmm.” Billy chews on his lip. “What did she tell you _precisely_? What’s she planning?”

“God, I don’t know, I’ve just got to get you to chill out a bit and throw you in Altman’s direction, or something.” Tommy throws his hands up. “Like I said, no one tells me anything.”

“Please don’t throw me on anyone,” Billy says fervently, and fidgets a little, trying to come to a resolution. “Fine, I’ll tell you, I just - don’t be mad at me.”

Tommy makes an exasperated sound and flops down on Billy’s bed. Billy follows him, clutching his pillow to his chest and trying to fold himself up as small as he can.

“Go on, then. Shoot.” Tommy says, crossing his legs with a sigh. 

Billy peeps over the pillow at him. It all comes out in a too-fast rush. “Teddy said we should fake kiss in the corridor because he thinks it will stop Kessler bothering me and I agreed to it. And now it’s weird.”

Tommy stares him down with an impassive expression. “How fake was it?”

“Not very.” Billy can’t help but squirm. Tommy is a master interrogator; it’s a little bit scary.  

“Did it work?”

“It seemed to.” Billy shrugs. “I don’t really care, to be honest.”

“Of course you don’t.” Tommy says dryly, uncrossing his legs to sit up and direct even more scrutiny at him. “You’re going to have to define ‘not very’.”

“Oh, god, please don’t make me.” Billy buries his head in his pillow. “It was not appropriate.”

Tommy just laughs at that. “Only to you, Billy.”

Billy glares at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Tommy shakes his head. “It means: you should probably go to the party. However weird it is.”

“I can’t look him in the eye.”

“You can sort things out.” Tommy pats him awkwardly on the knee. “Whichever way things go.”

From behind the pillow, Billy lets out a muffled: “But I only want them to go one way.” He’s not sure if Tommy hears it.

After a brief silence, Tommy finally sighs. “Yeah, I know.” He leans in and ruffles Billy’s hair, which he protests against with an annoyed noise. “But guess what?”

“Tough shit?”

“Got it.” Tommy shoots him a grin and pulls him off the bed. “Come on. We can have fun if even Teddy doesn’t want to suck face, I promise.”

He wishes people would stop _saying_ that.

 

*

 

The party starts off promising. Billy chokes down a cup of punch, which seems to satisfy Kate, and she gives him a facetious tour of her ridiculous house. He has an aggressive game of twister with her (which he, of course, loses) and finally feels ready to maybe actually face _other_ people.

So when she pushes him from behind with a whispered: “Now _mingle_ , for god’s sake,” - he’s halfway convinced that everything might actually go swimmingly. 

So, he mingles.

He has a lovely conversation with Cassie in which she assures him no less than ten times that no one blames him for keeping his personal business private, and she elbows Nate until he grudgingly echoes her and gives Billy an awkward smile, which is something. He has a very serious with Jonas in which they discuss the ramifications of the latest patch in frightening detail. America punches him in the arm and tells him he’s ok really, which is painful, because she’s solid muscle, but comforting, because she’s solid muscle. He and Eli stand in the corner and discuss how much they didn’t want to come and how much they are dreading the inevitable singstar showdown. Eli doesn’t even mention the guild drama, for which Billy is immensely grateful. In return, he elects not to mention the Kate situation in the opposite corner, in which Tommy and another unusually fair-haired boy are vying unashamedly for her attentions, and Kate is unabashedly encouraging them. 

He doesn’t try to find Teddy, and he really doesn’t know what he’d say to David, and so he has run out of people he wants to talk to.

This is as close to a social butterfly as he’s ever getting.

He ends up hiding in the kitchen trying to find reasons not to go back out. He has a leisurely drink of water. Examines the contents of the fridge. Checks his reflection in the back of a spoon. Kate helped him hide his bruise again, but he suspects everyone knows anyway. Which is fine, he supposes, but he’s not quite willing to acknowledge that just yet. 

He’s rearranging the cutlery drawer so all the spoons are spooning correctly when Teddy and David walk in on him. He slams the drawer shut and tries to look casual and cool, and not at all like the kind of person who sorts kitchenware at a party. 

“Hi Billy,” Teddy says, and as always, he sounds unfeasibly pleased to see him. It’s not good for Billy’s blood pressure.

“Hi,” David says, and gives him a little wave. 

Billy gives them both an awkward smile, and takes a gulp of his drink to spare him from trying to make conversation. Teddy smiles like has no idea he’s at the center of the stupid love triangle contained neatly in the kitchen. God, he probably doesn’t. Maybe David doesn’t even know. 

“David just beat me at twister,” Teddy says mournfully, and Billy tries his best not to imagine that. “He’s so _stretchy_.”

Billy tries not to choke on his drink. “I can imagine that would be, uh, an advantage.”

“Would you like a game?” David says pleasantly, and he is definitely just trying to be nice and include the weirdo sorting the spoons, but Billy can’t think of anything he’d rather do _less_ than contort himself into strange and intimate positions with David and Teddy. He’s good just hanging with the cutlery.

“God, no,” he says, “I’m terrible, I’d just embarrass myself.”

“Isn’t that half the fun?” Teddy says, and Billy feels a wave of unease wash over him. He’s always felt safe with Teddy. He’s always been the first to let Billy bow out of situations he’s not comfortable in, and it’s weird to feel so ready to bolt. He can’t do this. Teddy is too fun and too cool, and Billy’s just the cutlery creeper. Outside of his comfort zone of online games and the familiar corner of the lunch hall, he can’t keep up. He takes a step back.

“Really, I’m good,” he says, and Teddy looks disappointed. 

“Sure,” Teddy says, “Maybe we could get Mario Kart out? Teach Kate a trick or two for her next epic showdown.”

“If you want her to slap you, maybe,” Billy jokes weakly, clutching at the edge of the kitchen counter behind him. “I’m not sure she’s ready to laugh about it yet.”

“Mario Kart is a _great_ idea,” David enthuses, “I’m going to ask Kate to get it set up.” He tugs at Teddy’s sleeve. “You coming?”

“Sure, one second,” Teddy says, and they grin at each other in a way that makes Billy feel a little bit like gouging his eyes out. David lets his hand trail carelessly down Teddy’s arm as he leaves, and Billy tries not to notice that. It’s his problem. Not theirs.

There is a very heavy silence, and Billy has no idea what to do with it. They probably need to talk about the kiss. There's nothing he wants to talk about _less_ than the kiss.

“You know he has a huge crush on you, right?” Billy says, for no good reason whatsoever. 

Teddy blushes quite elaborately, which is unfairly endearing. “Who, David?”

“You really hadn’t noticed?” Billy says curiously, and he’s not sure why he’s pushing this. Maybe because he’s apparently out to sabotage his own life as completely as possible.

Teddy shifts his shoulders. It's not a yes, but it's not a no. “I don’t know.”

“The first thing he did is ask me if you were single.” Billy doesn’t even know why these words are coming out his mouth. Is this drunk? Is he drunk on two cups of weak fruity punch, or is he just an idiot? He hopes it’s the punch.

“Oh,” Teddy says, and he looks as bewildered as Billy as to the sudden change in direction of this conversation. “What did you tell him?”

There’s something significant in this question, something Billy knows he can get right or wrong. He gulps another swig of his drink, and takes a wild stab in the dark. “Single and ready to mingle,” he says, and gives Teddy a manic thumbs up. It rhymed. The rhyme makes it okay.

“Right,” Teddy says distantly, rubbing the back of his neck. Was that right? Was that what he wanted to hear? It’s the truth. He’s single, he’s mingling, Billy is sorting the spoons like the social disaster he is, and everything is as it’s meant to be.

Only Teddy _isn’t_ mingling, he’s standing in the kitchen with Billy looking a little bit lost, and that isn’t how it’s supposed to go.

“He’s probably waiting for you,” Billy says, and it’s only when Teddy's eyebrows furrow as he leaves that he realises it was kind of dismissive. 

 

*

 

Tommy comes to find him shortly, wearing a truly disgusted expression.

“Ok, so,” he says, sitting down at the kitchen table heavily, “I went to find Kate to get this Mario Kart shit off, and maybe get some singstar going.” He grabs the nearest bottle, gives it a disinterested look and takes an appraising gulp. “She was _busy_.”

“Busy?”

“Naked busy.” Tommy mimes retching. “You know that blonde dude, whatever his name is?”

“Oh.” Billy winces sympathetically. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Tommy says, “I’m sure it’ll fade from my retinas eventually.” His tone is flippant, but it doesn’t feel genuine. It’s a clear shut-down, though, so Billy doesn’t press.

“Well, I guess it’s not a party without - ” Billy waves his hand inarticulately. “ - some illicit nudity?” 

Tommy passes Billy the bottle, who takes a sip for form’s sake, more than anything. “I guess not.”

“Yeah, well.” Billy rolls his eyes. “It’s usually _you_ , so it’s a nice change-”

“Me?” Tommy looks genuinely startled, which is completely ridiculous. “It’s not!”

“See?” Billy levels him with an unimpressed glare. “You’re so lax about it, you don’t even notice when your clothes fall off.”

Tommy snorts, and they sit in silence for a while.

“You having fun?” Billy says eventually, quirking an eyebrow. “Not your usual style, sitting in the kitchen.”

“Urgh.” Tommy says, dropping his head on the table. “You?”

Billy shakes his head. “Is it late enough that it’s ok for us to leave?”

“Kate’s not really going to notice,” Tommy says with a grimace, “not for a while, anyway.”

“Good for her,” Billy mutters, standing up with a yawn. “Let’s go.” 

Tommy snags the bottle on their way out, and Billy can’t be bothered to object. They head to the doorway, bickering about the best way to get home.

For some reason, Tommy stops in his tracks with a horrified expression and flings a hand out to stop Billy, too. He isn’t quite fast enough to stop Billy seeing the scene at the end of the hallway.

That is, David and Teddy. Definitely, _definitely_ kissing. 

Tommy yanks him back into the front room before he can stand and gape as long as his self-destructive streak would like, so he’s just left with a fleeting impression of blonde hair and David’s stupid fucking glasses. He might scream.

“Right,” he says vaguely, aware that Tommy is casting him a wary look, “that’s a thing that is happening. Great.”

“Yeah, there’s a lot of that around.” Tommy twists his face. “Are you ok?”

Billy wishes he hadn’t asked that. He rubs his face. Kate's makeup comes off in streaks on his fingers and he doesn't care. “Can we just go?”

“Not really,” Tommy says, “they were kind of blocking the door.”

“So we just wait for them?” Billy says, a desperate edge to his voice. “They might be there for ages!”

“Hey, if you want to have that super awkward conversation, feel free.” Tommy rolls his eyes. “‘Excuse me, Teddy, could you detach yourself from David briefly so I can just get-’” he stops abruptly at the look on Billy’s face. “We’ll just wait. Give them five.”

Billy grabs the bottle from Tommy’s hands. “This party sucks.”

"Agreed."

 

*

 

Tommy peeks back round the corner in five minutes time and they’re gone, so he and Billy leave as quietly as they can. They’re home before long, and Billy creeps up the stairs while Tommy heads for the fridge - his usual pitstop. He lies under the covers and tries not to think about anything.

Five minutes later, he hears his door creak open, and feels something cold brush against his leg.

“Tommy?”

“Budge over,” his brother says, “I’m falling out.”

Billy moves obligingly with a token grumble. “You’ve got a perfectly good bed of your own, you know.”

“Yeah.” Tommy wriggles around, getting himself comfortable. He takes up at least three quarters of the bed, and he’s all sharp angles and vaguely garlicky breath. “But we’re cuddling.”

Tommy doesn’t cuddle, ordinarily. Not that lying down next to someone counts as cuddling in anyone else’s book. He must feel pretty sorry for him. “You’re too pointy to cuddle.”

“Complain all you want,” Tommy says sagely, “I’m here to make sure you’re ok. Big brother duties.”

That’s kind of sweet, but Billy doesn’t feel much like acknowledging it. “Why wouldn’t I be? Also, you’re not my big brother.”

“Still in the denial stage? This is gonna be a long night.”

Billy huffs, and elbows his brother, hard. “It’s not a big deal.”

“If you say so.”

They lie in silence for a while. Billy won’t admit it, but it does feel better having Tommy there, for all the angular discomfort. 

“Ok,” Billy says finally, his voice a little shaky. “So it hurt more than I thought it would.”

Tommy hums and turns his head to face Billy. “Yeah?” he says quietly, and offers a strange half-smirk that’s a little sad. “Well, tough shit.”

Coming from Tommy, it’s not as heartless as it should be.

“Tough shit,” Billy repeats, and he closes his eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY I had a bunch of people tell me they hoped Billy would have a better chapter, and I, um. Oops? *hides* 
> 
> I'd like to just clarify some things, so here goes! Firstly, I feel kind of bad that the Avengers seem to be playing the roles of stuffy adults. Sorry, Avengers. I love you but you are not the stars of this show. Second, I am using the love triangle type thing from vol 2, which made me a bit nervous because I know a lot people were unhappy with it. (So was I, to be honest.) But I just thought it would be fun to work it in on my own terms, and I hope you don’t think I’m totally messing it up. So there’s those! 
> 
> Thank you SO much for your comments and kudos and messages you lovely lovely people, you overwhelm me <3


	5. v. Ghost Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a heist.

Billy would probably take this opportunity to mope spectacularly, given half the chance. He’s well versed in the noble and ancient art of moping, and - not to brag, or anything - he’s pretty good at it, too. Given the events he witnessed last night, it’s perfectly reasonable to spend the rest of the weekend staring listlessly at things and sighing dramatically. Just a few days of self-indulgent misery. He’s allowed that much.

But, apparently not. Tommy wakes him in the morning by belching with aplomb about two inches from his ear, which pretty much sets the tone for the rest of the day. Evidently pleased with his efforts, Tommy laughs so much he falls out the bed with a loud thump, which in turn sends the boys running through to see what’s happened, which then somehow leads into a chaotic trampoline party on Billy’s bed. Which _then_ somehow degenerates into all of his siblings brutally tickling him until he takes a shower purely to be in a secure room with a lock.

Brothers are like puppies; they can tell when you’re sad. It might even be sort of cute, if they _were_ puppies. He supposes he should just be thankful they’re not licking his face. Or pooping in his shoes.

It’s raining outside, grey and miserable (“Just like your tortured soul,” Tommy says, and Billy smacks him on the head) so it turns into a Kaplan monopoly day. Monopoly is a terrible game with fundamentally flawed mechanics, and Billy tells them this, and gets booed so loudly he is forced to abandon his attempts to educate them on the horrendousness of the free parking house rule. 

“But it’s good for my math,” Alex says innocently, and that’s when Billy knows he is truly defeated. He is the sneakiest nine year old in the world, and is _not_ to be trusted.This quickly becomes apparent when a stash of greasy hundreds are unearthed from his bag of chips. Collecting rent from Alex is almost better avoided, as the notes are in such a state from being clutched so possessively.

Tommy moves his piece so quick it’s impossible to tell if he’s cheating or not, Michael makes stupid trades out of the goodness of his naive heart that inconvenience everyone, and his mom holds back from the Monopoly brutality Billy _know_ she’s capable of to give Michael half a chance. Jeff just sighs a lot as he rolls the dice with quiet resignation. Billy gets lumped with the near useless utilities early on, never really manages to acquire anything else, and thus is the first to fall to Alex’s empire. He does not go gracefully.

It’s _awful_. It’s a terrible game. There are a thousand other things he’d rather play, and if they’d just _listen_ , he’s certain they’d ditch this mockery of a board game and have much more fun with something else.

But it’s kind of nice, all the same.

 

*

 

They raid that evening, Billy sufficiently distracted by imaginary real estate that he logs in without remembering all the reasons he was planning on _not_ logging in. At this point, it’s too late to back out, so he panics and insists his microphone is broken. It would have _worked_ , and he could have been happy in his selective silence, if it weren’t for David and his unsolicited technical support. It’s lovely of him, really, and by the time he has patiently and efficiently talked Billy through every single possible fix, it just seems churlish to continue with the charade. David’s being so _nice_ , and damnit, could he be a little less nice? It would make this a lot easier.

“Got it,” Billy says weakly, and a cheer goes up over the chat channel. “I guess it was the driver, then.” He should’ve ended this at one of David’s earlier suggestions, because now he looks like an idiot who can’t even install updates. Which is only partially true. 

Unusually, Tommy declines to comment on Billy’s stupidity. Possibly because he’s lounging on Billy’s bed pretending he’s at the cinema, for reasons Billy feels are ill-thought out, at best. Kate has roped her new ‘friend’ in as extra DPS (“She met him,” Tommy hisses, “in _trade_ ,” which would hold a little more weight as a criticism if Tommy himself didn’t hang out there permanently, but whatever.) and so Tommy has decided to excuse himself. Not on the basis of being pathetic and sulky, but in the hope his absence will be felt. It’s a terrible plan. 

“I was pushing 200k last time,” Tommy says, stretching his legs out with a self-satisfied smirk. “You’ll miss me.”

“If you wanted to be irreplaceable, you rolled the wrong class,” Billy grumbles, scrolling through the reams of helpful but irrelevant links David is sending him, given that his microphone is not, in fact, defective at all. Irreplaceability was why Billy ditched DPS, if he’s truthful. Too expendable, whatever Tommy says. He tried tanking for all of ten minutes and they were the single most stressful ten minutes of his entire life. Healing, though - healing is perfect. He’s _important_ , it’s fun, but it’s not like the whole raid ends up resting on your shoulders (and you’re not usually the one everyone yells at, even if it _is_ your fault.)

“Yeah, yeah,” Tommy says, “healers and their superiority complex.” He sits up and grins, making a point of watching of Billy’s shoulder. “Show me how it’s done, then.”

As it happens, Billy is having an off day. Schooled by his nine year brother at an incredibly basic board game, and now this. Unbelievable.

So, this is the thing. Billy and Teddy are incredible. This is just an acknowledged fact. As a tank-healer duo, they are on the ball, great at communicating, and so familiar with how each other plays that nothing is ever a surprise. Their gaming compatibility is at least partially to blame for the resulting mess that Billy likes to call his life. (Not that Billy is attracted to Teddy’s use of cooldowns, because that’s weird, except he definitely is a bit. Is that really weird? He doesn’t want to know.)

Which is why the total disaster that follows is an unprecedented mess.

Teddy pulls erratically and inconsistently and gives Billy no warning whatsoever, which would be salvageable except for the fact that Billy basically flops his hands uselessly over his keyboard and fails to do anything useful. They wipe almost immediately.

“Wow, sorry guys,” Teddy says, as Billy hisses a desperate “shit” down the chat channel. “That was - let’s go again.”

They do. It goes alright for a little while, then Teddy mistakenly heals himself, which throws Billy off and takes Teddy out his bear form. Billy panics, pops his cooldowns in all the wrong places, promptly drops his mouse in shock, and they’re all dead by the time he surfaces from under his desk.

“Come _on_ , Billy,” Tommy says, “they can’t miss my stunning DPS if you don’t give them a chance to actually hit anything.”

“Again?” Billy says desperately into his microphone. 

Nate stops them after the fifth or sixth time, before everyone actually tears their hair out with frustration. Billy and Teddy start to protest feebly in unison.

“We are _stopping._ ” Nate says firmly. “You guys needs to sort your shit out. Get some sleep. Change your key bindings, whatever. Just - fix it.”

Billy sinks back in his seat with a groan, rubbing his eyes. Teddy leaves voice chat immediately, and Billy does the same. Presumably Teddy feels just as stupid as he does. 

Tommy pats him sympathetically on the shoulder. “Maybe you should sleep.”

“Says the bag of elbows who took up all the bed last night.” Billy scowls. “Uninvited, might I add.”

"You snored plenty for someone who didn't sleep." Tommy says, reaching over to pointedly remove the half full can of energy drink on Billy's desk. "I'd still recommend going easy on the caffeine, though."

"Any more advice, oh wise one?" Billy grumbles, grabbing at the can listlessly. Tommy whips it from his reach effortlessly.

"Sure," Tommy says easily, "sort stuff out with Teddy so we don't have another raid disaster because you're being useless and not talking to each other." He affects a stern expression, presumably trying to impersonate Nate. It’s… eerily accurate, actually. "'Fix it.'"

Billy murmurs in vague dissent. "Nothing to fix."

Tommy flicks the side of his head firmly with his finger as he leaves. “Brotherly advice, take it or leave it. Except you should probably take it, because I know everything.”

Billy throws one of many empty cans half-heartedly at Tommy’s back, suddenly aware of the just how large the pile has become. He’s maybe right about the caffeine thing.

 

*

 

[Hulkling] whispers : oh my god

To [Hulkling] : urgh I know

To [Hulkling] : tell me that was a bad dream

[Hulkling] whispers : did we just forget how to druid

To [Hulkling] : I have no explanation

To [Hulkling] : maybe i do need sleep

[Hulkling] whispers : late night?

To [Hulkling] : tommy is pointy

[Hulkling] whispers : ... what?

To [Hulkling] : he insisted on sleeping in my bed

To [Hulkling] : with me in it

[Hulkling] whispers : I want to say that’s kind of sweet

To [Hulkling] : yeah no

To [Hulkling] : in theory maybe

To [Hulkling] : anyway he is very pointy

[Hulkling] whispers : you guys left early :(

To [Hulkling] : yeaaaaah

To [Hulkling] : we were tired

[Hulkling] whispers : oh

To [Hulkling] : did you have fun

[Hulkling] whispers : sure

To [Hulkling] : high praise indeed

[Hulkling] whispers : haha yeah it just got a bit awkward

[Hulkling] whispers : i think cassie and nate fell out and then kate disappeared and stuff

[Hulkling] whispers : various awkward things

[Hulkling] whispers : anyway i’m super sorry about tonight

To [Hulkling] : don’t be! that is at least 50% on me

[Hulkling] whispers : yeah but I’m buttering you up, billy

[Hulkling] whispers : shhhhh 

[Hulkling] whispers : ps. sweet new staff

To [Hulkling] : THANK YOU no one has noticed isn’t it AWESOME

To [Hulkling] : wait what

To [Hulkling] : buttering me up for what??

[Hulkling] whispers : should I compliment you a bit more or are you feeling amenable

To [Hulkling] : could stand to hear a bit more

[Hulkling] whispers : I bow down to your superiority? 

To [Hulkling] : hmmmmmmm

To [Hulkling] : to be honest the question mark kind of took away from that

To [Hulkling] : not what I look for in a compliment

[Hulking] whispers : and that would be?

To [Hulkling] : ummmmmm

To [Hulkling] : you could tell me my nose is really boopable

[Hulkling] whispers : well i wouldn’t know

[Hulkling] whispers : I’ve never booped it

To [Hulkling] : you should

To [Hulkling] : it’s great, I have it on good authority

To [Hulkling] : well

To [Hulkling] : the authority of my tiny sticky brother

To [Hulkling] : he also enjoys eating ketchup from the bottle

[Hulkling] whispers : I’m sure that doesn’t lessen his expert nose booping views

[Hulkling] whispers : it would be an honor 

[Hulkling] whispers: I'm sure it's second to none

To [Hulkling] : there we go

To [Hulking] : COMPLIMENT ACCEPTED

To [Hulkling] : how can I be of assistance, dear friend???

[Hulkling] whispers : can I borrow your brain

To [Hulkling] : not sure the logistics of that but keep talking

[Hulkling] whispers : I have a chem test on friday 

[Hulkling] whispers : please share your wisdom with me

To [Hulkling] : oh right

To [Hulkling] : sure

To [Hulkling] : if you think it’ll help…?

[Hulkling] whispers : I do!

[Hulkling] whispers : I don’t want you to feel like you have to

To [Hulkling] : no sure sounds fun

To [Hulkling] : well I dunno if fun is the right word but

To [Hulkling] : yeah no problem

[Hulkling] whispers :  :)

 

*

 

To [Sporkeye] : I hate everything

To [Sporkeye] : how are you?

[Sporkeye] whispers : well if it isnt my little ray of sunshine

To [Sporkeye] : how was YOUR night

[Sporkeye] whispers : why did you take off?

To [Sporkeye] : to paraphrase my good friend (ie you)

To [Sporkeye] : NO DEFLECTING

[Sporkeye] whispers : it was fun

To [Sporkeye] : is that what the kids are calling it these days

[Sporkeye] whispers : alright grandpa

[Sporkeye] whispers : someones grouchy

[Sporkeye] whispers : i take it my plan did not go as planned

To [Sporkeye] : yeah well 

To [Sporkeye] : lets not talk about that ever again

[Sporkeye] whispers : oh dear

To [Sporkeye] : i’m not ready

[Sporkeye] whispers : i’ll swap you

[Sporkeye] whispers : juicy deets in return for juicy deets

To [Sporkeye] : ok so first, it took me like 5 minutes to work out what a deet was so don’t ever say that again

To [Sporkeye] : and second, as much as I love you

To [Sporkeye] : for the love of god do not give me your ‘juicy deets’

To [Sporkeye] : EVER

 

*

 

He spills his disaster of an evening with Kate eventually. She talks him into a phone call and makes a lot of annoyed noises down the line, trying unconvincingly to turn them sympathetic halfway through. Mostly, she just tells him he’s an idiot. Lovingly.

After that, he spends his weekend having as inane as possible conversations with Teddy online, just like they used to. Like this, it’s easy to think of Teddy as Hulkling. Back when he was an anonymous druid that lived somewhere in the vague vicinity with bizarre taste in transmogs. Not the boy who reaches across to dip his fries in Billy’s ketchup. Hulkling was simple and Billy was his healer, and he always had his undivided attention. Teddy is complicated and Billy’s just some nerd he goes to school with, and he kisses other people and it’s more painful than it should be.

Maybe he just enjoys being miserable, but he still wouldn’t change a thing.

 

*

 

Tommy has been brewing a terrible idea for a while now; Billy can _smell_ it on him. On Tuesday, it just stinks especially strong. He is evasive all lunchtime, and makes Billy sign him an absence permission slip. Billy isn’t exactly proud of it, but he has quite the talent for forging his parents’ signatures. His dad caught him doing it once, and even expressed grudging admiration before whipping the paper out his hands.

There’s no point in pushing; Tommy clearly has no intention of telling him what he’s doing instead of History. Usually it’s sleeping on the desk, but presumably he doesn’t need a note to do that. Teddy doesn’t know the subtle ways of the Thomas Shepherd, so he tries fruitlessly all lunch. Billy lets him get on with it with a lot of expansive eye-rolling.

Teddy is still sitting with them. Which is great, of course, but makes Billy want to crawl out of his skin. Obviously, they did the _thing_ , and people saw the thing, and now there are a lot of rumours. Admittedly, sort of the point - if there _was_ a point other than the universe tauntingly reenacting Billy’s most ridiculous fever dreams - but Teddy is sitting there _with him_ , and it’s not doing anything to disprove said rumours. Billy wants to give him a heads up, but he also wants to stay as far away from anything approaching an actual conversation as far as possible. He’ll end up having to bring up David, and aside from the obvious general distress that will cause him, he _really_ doesn’t want to admit Tommy and he accidentally creeped on them. Teddy hasn’t mentioned it, so he obviously doesn’t want Billy to know, and Billy just wants to forget about everything. 

 _Est complicadum_. He should look up the actual Latin for that. Maybe get it tattooed on his forehead as a warning. 

He’s just going to let everyone get on with whatever it is they’re doing without telling him. It’s fine. Whatever.

 

*

 

Billy has not yet made a formal list of Things he Categorically Does Not Need to See,  but if he _had_ , this would probably be at the top. Possibly not the _top_ , but definitely top five, at least. He’s ticking an alarming number of things off this hypothetical list at the moment. Lucky him.

New in at number two on Billy’s list of all-time ‘Oh My God Could You Not’s: Tommy and Kate doing the thing. The kissing thing. Right there in front of him outside their school, as he leaves his last class, with their hands - oh, _gross_. 

“Well, that’s inappropriate,” Billy says loudly, but they ignore him, if they even hear him at all. “Um, guys? Best friend and twin brother who looks enough like me for this to be _really_ _fucking weird_?”

Nothing.

“Are you seriously - _are you seriously Ron and Hermione-ing me right now_?” Billy drags his hands down his face with a groan. “Or Han and Leia-ing? Tommy _is_ my brother, although - oh god, please don’t kiss me to make her jealous.”

They break apart to shoot him matching disgusted looks.

“I think it’s very telling that you consider yourself the protagonist,” Kate says smugly, but she takes a sidestep away from Tommy, who is the dictionary definition of a shit-eating grin. “When _we’re_ the ones just back from a daring and dangerous mission.”

“Sure,” Billy says, rolling his eyes, but they both keep grinning at him so manically that he double-takes. “Wait, what?”

“We got my name back,” Kate says in a delighted rush, and beams at Tommy, who looks pleased as punch. Billy feels his heart sink. He gets the feeling it’s not _quite_ Tommy she’s beaming at. 

He groans. “Oh god, what did you do?”

“Turns out Clint doesn’t use an authenticator,” Tommy says idly, “he leaves himself logged in, and there’s a spare key under the mat, which is just _schoolboy_ -”

“No. Please say you didn’t.”

“Generously,” Kate says, tossing her hair back, “I didn’t leave him with Sporkeye, because I’m kind.”

Billy covers his face in his hands. “Oh no.”

“He didn’t see us,” Tommy says, “so you can stop freaking out.’

“You skipped History to _break and enter_ -”

“Like I said, we used the key,” Tommy says, and Billy thinks he might scream. “Not sure it counts, as per se.”

“I left him with Hawkguy,” Kate says thoughtfully, “do you he’ll like that?”

“You mean,” Billy says, glaring balefully at her from between his fingers, “if he manages to overlook the part where you broke into his apartment?”

Kate rolls her eyes. “It’s not like _he_ didn’t play dirty.”

Billy sighs, and rubs the bridge of his nose. Time to pick his battles, and he’s clearly losing this one. “Kate, I need a word.” He grabs her and pulls her firmly off to the side. She doesn’t even glance back at Tommy, who shrugs and starts to amble in the direction of the bus stop.

“Who pissed in your cereal?” 

“Kate,” he says conversationally, fighting the edge of aggression that is creeping into his tone. “What are you doing?”

“You mean with Tommy?” She raises her eyebrows. “Because of what happened at the weekend? Billy, if you even _think_ about saying what I think you’re about to say, I swear to god-”

Billy makes a frustrated noise. “Of course not. I’m just looking out for him.”

She snorts, picking at her nails in lieu of taking him even remotely seriously. “Oh, please. Tommy doesn’t _do_ feelings.”

“Seriously?” Billy snaps, sounding more angry that he knew he even _could_ , and Kate whips her head up to look at him, her eyes wide.

“I didn’t mean-”

“Look, date him or don’t date him, I don’t care. But don’t - don’t rope him into your stupid schemes because you know he’s the only one who _will_ , and then turn round and drop him like a hot potato when you’ve got what you wanted, okay?”

There’s a heavy silence as she blinks at him. 

“Billy,” she says finally, spreading her hands earnestly. “I’m not trying to - it was _his_ idea.”

“Yeah,” Billy says, and he’s not making his point very well at all. “It wouldn’t be the stupidest thing he’s done to get someone’s approval - look, just be _nice_. Please.”

“I was being. I thought you saw.”

“Not what I meant.” Billy rubs his face again. “Urgh, nevermind.”

Kate shrugs, but her expression is concerned. “So, is this the twin talk?” She asks, and Billy cracks a smile. “Did Teddy get this too?”

“I hope not.” Billy pulls a horrified face. “Probably. Oh, god.”

Kate laughs, cocks her head to one side consideringly. “It’s kind of sweet.”

People need to stop saying that. “I’m a horrible brother,” he says wearily, “and by trying not to be, I’ve been a horrible friend. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“Billy,” Kate says, and she rubs his arm sympathetically. “You’re not horrible.”

“I’m a bit horrible.”

“I’ve been reliably informed that you are - and I quote - ‘okay’.” Kate says solemnly. “America doesn’t mince her words.”

Billy shrugs. “Hey, I’ll take what I can get.”

“That’s your problem.” Kate pats his shoulder fondly, and he doesn’t ask. “And for the record, I think it’s adorable that you tried to yell at me.” Billy glares at her. “Did I say adorable? I meant incredibly menacing, obviously.”

“I _do_ have that effect on people.”

Kate grins, before schooling her face into something a little more serious. “I’m not spending time with Tommy just because of his burglary skills, I promise.”

Billy relaxes a little. “Good.”

“I’m also interested in his skills with-”

“No details!” Billy shrieks, covering his ears with hands. “I thought we’d covered my policy on details!”

 

*

 

[Guild][Hawkeye] : GUESS WHAT

[Guild][Stature] : NO WAY

[Guild][Stature] : you got it back!!!

[Guild][Iron Lad] : good to see you guys sorted it out

[Guild][Wiccan] : not even close

[Guild][Speed] : what a fortuitous turn of events!

[Guild][Hawkeye] : it was settled in an adult and mature manner

[Guild][Wiccan] : are you serious

[Guild][Stature] : good to have you back, hawkeye

[Guild][Hawkeye] : why thank you stature

[Guild][Hawkeye] : its good to be back

[Guild][Wiccan] : this will end badly

[Guild][Hawkeye] : someone gag the healer

[Guild][Hawkeye] : i nominate teddy

[Guild][Hawkeye] : as his tank hes his responsibility

[Guild][Wiccan] :  kate

[Guild][Wiccan] : could you not

 

*

 

Teddy invites him over to his house for their Chemistry session, which does nothing to contain Billy’s intense curiosity about everything Teddy Altman. It’s not what he expected. He knows Teddy is living with his aunt, and he knows that is an alternative and not entirely permanent arrangement, but he hasn’t wanted to pry beyond that. He knew he wasn’t going to be seeing Teddy’s childhood bedroom, lived in for years, but he hadn’t expected to feel like Teddy was a temporary lodger.

His room is full of boxes clumsily marked with vague descriptions in sharpie, mostly still full, the odd item trailing out and over the edge. The bed is perfectly made with military corners, which must be his aunt’s doing, surely. There’s nothing at all to make the room Teddy’s, but there surely _could_ be. There are enough boxes to guess he brought everything with him, but he’s made no effort to unpack. If anything, he’s avoided it.

Teddy stands uncomfortably in the middle of the room and shrugs, and Billy doesn’t ask. Instead he taps the nearest box labelled  ‘Warhammer’ and raises his eyebrows.

“Should’ve known,” Billy says, “you enormous nerd. Let me guess: space orks. I know you have a thing for angry aliens.” He peers curiously into the box.

“As if,” Teddy says, horrified. “Take your 40k filth elsewhere.”

“Oh wow, don’t judge me,” Billy squints at one of the tiny models. “You’re too hardcore for my casual space marine habits. Um, what even are these?”

Teddy shoots him a pitying look. “Wood elves.”

“Where are the guns?” Billy asks blithely, and grins when Teddy opens his mouth to protest. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

“Some day,” Teddy says, “I’ll introduce you to _actual_ Warhammer.”

“Sure.” Billy sits on the edge of the sterile, cream bed. “Consider it payment.”

“Payment?”

“For imparting my Chem wisdom.” Billy waves the textbook in front of Teddy’s face. “So, what is it today?”

“Titrations.” Teddy flops down on the bed dramatically. “Is that liquids. Things? I dunno.”

“Good to see you have a basic grasp of the concept.”

“Shut up.” Teddy nudges Billy’s thigh with his elbow. “Aunt Carol will be home any minute, by the way. She’ll probably interrogate you.”

“Well, it _is_ my turn.” Billy flicks through the textbook absently. “After my mom gave you a grilling.”

“It was nice,” Teddy says faintly, and Billy snorts. “Honestly, it was. They were just being friendly.”

“Sure. Did your aunt already interrogate David?”

“Huh?” Teddy’s forehead wrinkles. He’s still lying down, and Billy fights the urge to lean back and lie down next to him. Maybe that would be weird. “She hasn’t met David.”

“Oh, right.” Billy gives the textbook a bored glance, in a stunningly unconvincing show of disinterest. “I just thought maybe he’d been over.”

“Nope,” Teddy says, with almost too much bravado. “You’re the first. I’m not really set to receive visitors.”

“What an honor,” Billy says, and tries not to sound like he means it. “My opinion matters so little that I’m allowed to see your mess -”

Teddy swats at him, and he breaks off into laughter. 

“You’re not a visitor.”

Billy is an asshole. He can’t help it. “And David is?”

“I guess?” Teddy props himself up on his elbows to pull his best bewildered puppy face. It’s one of his specialities. “You’re - we’re better friends.”

The best thing to do at this point would be to bask in being a ‘better friend’, probably. Which Billy does. Briefly. 

“So you’re not,” Billy says, making strange movements with his eyebrows that probably don’t indicate half of what he’s trying to convey. “You know.”

Teddy frowns. “What?”

This is precisely the conversation Billy promised himself he wouldn’t have. He wiggles his eyes ever more insistently at Teddy. “You _know_.”

“Oh.” Teddy turns a vibrant and uncharacteristic red. “I - we-”

“Don’t sound so guilty,” Billy says, pulling his knees up to his chest. “It wasn’t meant to be an accusation, I’m just super nosy.” He pulls a wry face. “Believe it or not, this is my clumsy attempt at being a good friend. Taking an interest in your, um, love life.” 

Teddy opens and closes his mouth a few times in an endearingly clueless fashion. “My love life.” He repeats. 

“Obviously not everyone gets hockey stick action as often as I do,” Billy says, “but that’s _nothing_ to be ashamed of.”

Teddy throws a pillow at him. “I didn’t think I _had_ a love life, but I’ll defer to the expert, of course.”

“No?” Billy raises his eyebrows. They’re getting a lot of exercise tonight.

Teddy squirms under his gaze, which is a strange feeling. “Look, whatever Kate told you, it’s wrong. And she’s already yelled at me, so if we could skip that bit-”

“Yelled at you?” Billy blinks rapidly as he processes that. _Huh._ “I’m so confused. Why would she yell at you?”

Teddy rolls over onto his front and mumbles something into the duvet.

“Sorry,” Billy says, “I don’t speak Bed.” 

Teddy lifts his head up. “She said I ruined her plans, and then punched me in the arm.” He looks mournful. “It _bruised_.”

“Okay, just to clarify - what _did_ you do?” Billy prods at Teddy’s shoulder. “Are we still talking about your hallway dalliance?”

“Were we ever?” Teddy says, turning pink again.

“Oh, definitely. I’m enjoying watching you squirm.”

“Okay.” Teddy looks determinedly at Billy’s chin. “How did you - nevermind.”

“I see all.” Billy says, patting Teddy’s knee sympathetically. “You can’t hide from the lidless eye.”

“So Kate did tell you.” 

Maybe it’s best to let him think that. “I thought,” Billy says teasingly, “you said whatever Kate told me was wrong.”

“Ok, not that part,” Teddy says, very fast, “but the other part. We’re not - it was a bad decision.”

Billy’s poker face is awful, so he lets himself grin, and hopes it comes out amused rather than ‘choir of angels singing’. “Ah, a party scandal!” 

“Don’t _say_ that,” Teddy groans, collapsing back onto the bed. “It just sort of  - happened.”

Teddy looks genuinely mortified, so Billy takes pity on him. He flops down next to Teddy and ignores the pathetic little feeling worming its way back into his brain. It’s not like it’s an either-or situation. He can not like David, _and_ not like Billy. 

“Bit of juicy gossip for you,” Billy says, offering the change of subject Teddy obviously wants. “He won’t tell me anything else, but I know David kissed Tommy this one time.”

“I… Wow. That _is_ juicy.”

“Also,” Billy says, “Tommy and Kate were being obscene outside school yesterday, so that’s something I never wanted to see.”

“Now that, I _did_ call.” Teddy says, and grins at him. “Hey, if you kiss David, he’d have the full set.”

“The full _set_ ,” Billy splutters, almost flailing his way off the bed. Teddy grabs him by the arm, laughing. “How about _you_ get the full set? I’m sure Tommy’ll understand your need for a sense of completion.”

Teddy wrinkles his nose, so Billy elbows him in the rubs.

“Ow!”

“I can’t let that kind of attitude stand.” Billy says, trying not to laugh. “To insult one is to insult us both.”

Teddy just raises an eyebrow at that, and Billy isn’t _quite_ sure what that means, but he feels suddenly far too warm and close and honest. He sits up with a start, and drops the textbook on Teddy’s stomach.

“Titrations. Let’s go.”

 

*

 

Carol doesn’t interrogate Billy, she just gives him a very thorough once over and grins widely, which he decides to take as a good sign, however unnerving. She stands uncertainly in the doorway, seemingly as bewildered to have a teenage house guest as Teddy seems to be being one. They look at each other with some kind of sombre significance Billy doesn’t understand, then the moment passes, and she grins again, dumping some pizza boxes on the end of the bed.

“Studying fuel,” she says, and looks disproportionately amused with something. Billy hopes it’s not him. “I’ll leave you to it.” She makes as if to leave, before popping back round the door to say: “Nice to meet you, Billy.”

He waves nervously, and she disappears back round the door. Teddy leaps up with a mumbled “one second”, and Billy is left alone with the pizza and an awkward feeling low in his stomach.

Through the half-open door he can hear them talking, and he tries not to listen, but it’s hard not to.

“She’s fine,” Carol says, in a tone that even Billy knows means she’s not fine at all. “You can call her later, okay?”

Billy rustles with the pizza boxes desperately. Surely there must be a way to make more noise than this. He slams the textbook shut repeatedly, making sure to flail against the headboard of the bed with his elbows. 

He may not have all the details, but he doesn’t need to know much to figure out what they’re talking about. Billy has an incredible capacity for imagining the worst, but not _this_. He can’t even begin to wrap his head around whatever Teddy must be going through. And -  it isn’t _fair_. Teddy sat on the floor of the library with him and made him feel like he wasn’t a total waste of space. He humoured his tiny miseries when other kids had the audacity to maybe not like him that much. He threw away his dignity to make Billy feel a little bit better about his stupid problems, and yet life is kicking _Teddy_ to the curb, and Billy has no idea what to about it. 

Teddy deserves so much more than than a bunch of boxes he’s afraid to unpack and a jokey, useless platitude about a surplus of moms and wanting to share. Teddy doesn’t have anyone to grumble about taking up half the bed, or to tickle him out of being miserable, or demolish him at terrible board games. Billy would give it all to him in a heartbeat, if he could.

By the time Teddy sneaks back round the door doing a terrible job of not looking miserable, and Billy has opened the pizza boxes as noisily as he possibly can, he wants to launch across the room and wrap himself around Teddy and promise to destroy everything that dares to make him anything less than happy and safe.

Instead, he pats the space on the bed next to him, and takes a deep breath. “How’s your mom?”

Teddy looks startled. They don’t go there, they never mention this. “She’s fine.”

Billy nods slowly. He supposes actually being truthful was never the point; he just wants Teddy to know it’s on the cards, if he wants. He lets go of the breath he’d been holding. “Okay. Pizza?”

Teddy sits down obediently, but doesn’t take a slice. He stares at the wall behind Billy’s head. “She’s having this thing tomorrow.”

Billy freezes over the slice he was reaching for. “Uhuh?”

“It’ll be fine,” Teddy says, and it sounds like a well worn sentence. He looks up at Billy desperately, and for one horrible moment Billy thinks he wants him to _agree_. It’s not that, though; it’s a plea. He can do that.

Billy tugs the pizza boxes towards him. “Okay, new plan - we’re combining learning _and_ eating. Doubly efficient.”

Teddy snorts. “Yeah?”

“I’m going to ask you some questions, and if you get them correct, you can have a slice of pizza.” 

“What if,” Teddy asks, “I get them wrong?”

Billy props his head in his hands and grins up at Teddy. “Then I get it.” 

“That’s a shame,” Teddy says sweetly, “because I’m going to feel really bad when you go home hungry. You _are_ a guest, after all. I’ll feel so rude.”

“Oh, it is _on,_ ” Billy says, and starts leafing through the textbook determinedly as Teddy laughs. “Let’s play for the extra cheesy slice first.”

“Done.”

 

*

 

After they’ve divided up the pizza and laughed themselves stupid, Carol knocks on the door with Teddy’s mom on the phone. Billy feels like he should leave, like it’s not okay for him to see this, but Carol fixes him with a particularly piercing look as she ushers Teddy out the room, so he sits back down on the bed and waits. 

Maybe it’s not as bad as all that, he thinks, as he catches echoes of Teddy laughing. Laughing is happy, right? Maybe it’s not like Teddy’s thinking this could be the last time he ever talks to her. Either way, he can’t bear to hear it, so he covers his ears, because it’s definitely not his place to hear the things he thinks he hears in Teddy’s voice. He doesn’t want to intrude.

When Teddy creeps back in, Billy does him the courtesy of pretending to be engrossed in scouring the pages they’ve gone over, so his entrance needn’t be a big deal. He doesn’t look up for a few moments, by which point Teddy has schooled his expression into something unreadable.

“Alright,” Billy says, tapping the textbook. “I think we’ve cracked titration, after the pizza scenario.” Teddy ended up winning most of it and making a big show of generously donating some of his slices to Billy. “Want to watch me fail at League of Legends?”

A smile tugs at the corners of Teddy’s mouth. “Really? You want to try?”

“Sure,” Billy shrugs. “If nothing else, it’ll be fun for you to watch me lose spectacularly.”

“Billy,” Teddy says, resting a solemn hand on his shoulder. “No student of mine _ever_ loses.”

“You’re going to regret saying that.”

 

*

 

After a few spectacular defeats on the Fields of Justice (“You’re doing great,” Teddy insists loyally, but he’s definitely just being nice.) Billy catches sight of the time and jumps up with a yelp. He thanks Carol for the pizza, which just earns him a snort, but he _thinks_ that’s a good sign, and Teddy leads him to the door thanking him much more than he deserves. 

“You’ll ace the test,” Billy promises him, “full marks or a full refund.”

Teddy smiles. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“You’ll do great,” Billy says, and walks away giving Teddy a thumbs up. “I’ll collect my debt later.”

“Wait one second,” Teddy calls after him, and Billy stops and turns as Teddy dashes to catch up with him. He flashes Billy a sheepish grin. “Just forget this one thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Teddy says, reaching up to boop Billy on the nose. Billy blushes extensively. “I did promise.”

“And?” Billy says, because he can’t help himself. He has this weird obsession with his nose being deemed acceptable, and it’s getting weird. “The nose verdict?”

Teddy nods seriously. “Excellent. No complaints whatsoever. Would boop again.”

Billy needs to go home and lie face down on his bed for at least an hour. This _dork_.

He feels like he’d probably be pushing it for a hug, so he boops Teddy’s nose right back.

“Likewise. See you tomorrow.”

They grin at each other like idiots for a bit, which is terrible and awful and very not good at all, because Billy is just a huge bundle of hope and stupid feelings and he needs to get them under control ASAP.

So then he floats home, like the idiot he is, and he’s thinking about all the ways he’s going to be a better friend to Teddy, and all the ways he’s going to galvanise their guild to greatness, and he doesn’t expect to come home to anything untoward in the slightest.

No one answers the door, so he lets himself in, and heads towards the kitchen for a glass of water. His welcoming committee is waiting for him.

Tommy is sat at the table like something out of a crime show interrogation scene, and he grimaces at Billy. Rebecca is stood behind him, her lips thin, and Jeff is looking impassive to her left. More worryingly, a concerned Wanda is standing by the fridge, flanked by a frowning Steve and Pietro, with Clint to her left, who shrugs helplessly in his direction.

“Sorry man,” he says genuinely, “but someone breaks into your house, you take it kinda personally, you know?”

“Billy,” Rebecca says, “you should sit down.”

“Oh,” Billy says weakly, dropping his bag by the door. “Oh no.”

‘Oh no’ is about right.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, you guys. There are things about this fic I planned out way before I ever thought I would write it all, and now I am actually writing them and they are causing me extreme anguish. Past me is horrible. We're not talking. (Much love to Jet for letting me cry about it in their inbox!)
> 
> Whoops, this took ages! Life just got... busy. It's getting even busier so you might have to bear with me for updates! (I'm an idiot and biting off more than I can chew, basically.) Thank youuuu all for being lovely and encouraging while I took forever, and as always, you make my day with your lovely comments, so thank you a billion for those! <3


	6. vi. Respec

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a parental intervention and a guild crisis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a heads up, there is a Sad in this chapter which you probably saw coming a while ago, if you want more details they'll be in the end notes.

Billy slumps down at the kitchen table opposite Tommy, all bravado gone. He and Tommy share a meaningful glance, which isn’t really all that meaningful, because Tommy’s non-verbal communication is appalling. So much for their magical twin connection. He _thinks_ it’s meant to signify something along the lines of : “it’s bad, it’s really bad”, and so braces himself accordingly. 

“Let’s just get this over with,” Tommy says, and Billy wants to kick him, because he’s seen enough police procedurals to know that makes him sound guilty as hell. Which he is, but still. Billy’s not crumbling until they have proof. He is impassive and strong and will not break. He is a rock. Their anger and disapproval will wash over him, futile as waves crashing against a cliff-

“Did you tell your friend where I lived?” Clint asks.

“Yeah,” Billy says, deflating immediately. “I did.”

“You can’t go giving out addresses like that, Billy,” Rebecca says, “not to people you’ve just met online.”

“Hang on a second,” Billy protests, glaring back a little more defiantly that he thought he was capable of. “Are we _seriously_ having this conversation? Because, um.” He gestures vaguely at the people contained in the kitchen. “Bunch of strangers from the internet?”

“That’s different-”

“You found my birth mom _online_ -”

“You’ve got to be careful, though,” Rebecca continues, “and you certainly can’t go around handing out addresses like that.”

“Kate’s my best friend,” Billy says loyally, “and she only wanted to talk, because _he_ stole her username-”

“It’s fine,” Clint cuts across him hastily, “honestly, the telling her my address bit isn’t the part I mind.”

“Still,” Rebecca says, “it’s the principle, they need to learn to be _safe_.”

“I completely agree,” Wanda says, and Billy wilts a little as his two terrifying moms unite with little smiles of agreement. Truly, this is the stuff of nightmares. He prefers at least a couple of miles distance between them, lest they join up like some kind of mom megazord. “They need to make sure they don’t rush into anything, don’t place undue trust in-”

“Uh, mom,” Tommy says, raising an incredulous eyebrow. “One word: _Victor_.”

Wanda blushes scarlet, and Clint stuffs his fist in his mouth, shaking with silent laughter.

“He has a point,” Pietro says, giving her a mischievous sideways look, and Billy thinks for one glorious moment his mom is going to punch him, but she just folds her arms instead and tries to look unconcerned. He is struck - not for the first time - by the resemblance to Tommy and himself, and Jeff looks to be thinking the same thing, judging by his stifled grin. Wanda’s ‘I want to smack you but I won’t because I’m taking the moral high ground’ expression is a lot better than his, mainly because he tends to give into temptation and thus loses any moral high ground he had any claim to. 

Tommy shrugs unapologetically. “Just saying.”

“We’re getting a little off-topic,” Jeff says firmly, and Steve murmurs in agreement. “I think the real issue here is the part where you actually _broke into_ Mr. Barton’s house-

“Oh _god_ , please call me Clint. Just Clint is fine.”

“- where you broke into Clint’s house,” Jeff continues smoothly, “hacked into his computer-”

“Just to get a few things straight,” Tommy says, puffing himself up indignantly, “he leaves his key under the doormat outside, and his password is ‘I love arrows’.”

“That’s secret,” Clint says ineffectively. “That’s a very top secret, high security password.”

“Come _on._ ”

“That doesn’t make it less wrong,” Jeff says, and Tommy shrugs down at the table, the edge of his expression a little sheepish.

“I know. I’m just saying, you can leave all the juvenile delinquent cliches at the door because we just walked in and logged on, there was no _smashing_ or _hacking_.” 

“Also,” Billy adds, feeling now is a good time to come to his brother’s defence. “Clint stole her name first, and that wasn’t right, either.”

“Did he now,” Steve says, and Billy suspects he doesn’t believe them. Luckily, Clint blows it.

“It was mine first,” he says uselessly. 

“Right.” Steve pinches the top of his nose. “This is messier than I thought.”

“Usually is,” Tommy says, and shoots Steve a rather insolent look. Billy wants to high five him, but restrains himself on the basis that it _probably_ won’t lessen any punishment they may or may not be getting. 

“Do we ground them, maybe?” Wanda says, sounding unsure. Billy looks up at her mournfully; her buttons are much easier to press, mostly because she’s never been one of his sole caregivers. Her sense of discipline is not as finely honed.

“I don’t think so,” Rebecca says, “it’s not good to completely socially cut teenagers off.” Billy turns his soulful puppy eyes towards her, only to find them completely ignored. She’s much better at this.

“Curfew?” Wanda suggests tentatively, and all the adults nod solemnly. Tommy makes a disgruntled sound.

“Home straight after school,” Rebecca says, “weekend outings negotiable depending on your homework.”

“Sounds fair,” Billy says, and he must sound far too cheerful, because they all narrow their eyes at him.

“Sorry about this, Bill,” his dad says, casting him an apologetic look, “but don’t you think we should be restricting their internet use?”

Billy has never felt so betrayed in his life. “But we _need_ it. For, uh, school.”

“The internet,” Wanda asks thoughtfully, “or just the game?”

“Just the game, I think, with restricted internet access in general,” Rebecca says, nodding judiciously. “Can that be done?”

As Wanda starts explaining about parental controls, Rebecca nodding in interest, Billy lets his head fall to the table. “But they need us,” he says, his voice muffled. “I’m the healer.” It’s pretty pitiful, but he’s really not above begging. “What about our raids?”

“I’m sure they’ll cope,” Steve says kindly, but wow, he has _no_ idea. “There’s a lot of reshuffling you guys need to do, anyway.”

Billy raises his head from the table and shoots Steve his very own filthy look, and Steve himself even looks a bit taken aback. Billy is impressed with his own nerve. Cap, the hero of his server - and he just glared at him. It was kind of mean, but kind of amazing. 

“Okay,” Rebecca says, and her tone makes it clear that they are about to receive their sentences. They both turn towards her dutifully. “You can have thirty minutes of internet access a day, an hour at weekends, and if you need more for school work, come and see me. The game is off limits, and you should come home straight after school.” Her gazes rest on Billy. “ _Straight_ home.”

“But I’m helping Teddy with Chem,” Billy says, his voice as pathetic as he can make it. “How can I tutor him?”

Rebecca shoots him one of her best ‘don’t bullshit me’ looks. “Lunchtimes,” she says sweetly, and Billy lets his head drop back onto the table.

“How long?” Tommy kicks the table leg idly. “A month? A week?”

“Negotiable,” Rebecca says, and Tommy makes a disgruntled noise.

So it’s going to be one of those ‘until you’ve learned your lesson’ things. _Great_.

 

*

 

At lunchtime, they pass on the bad news to Teddy, who makes the right sounds in all the right places, but pushes his food around his plate listlessly. Right. His mom has a thing.

Tommy either doesn’t notice, or is being uncharacteristically tactful, so he keeps up his steady stream of grumbling, and Billy edges his chair a little closer to Teddy’s and nudges him gently. Teddy is tense and miserable.

Billy ends up carrying the conversation with Tommy, letting Teddy off the hook a little. He also ends up holding Teddy’s hand under the table, however that happened. It seemed like the thing to do, and by the way Teddy’s fingernails are digging in, he thinks he might have been right. It’s not - it’s not like _that_ , obviously, because Teddy’s mom is in surgery or something horrible, and he’s just trying to help him feel a little bit less alone. Absolutely zero ulterior motives, just a horrible feeling in his stomach and a desperate urge to try and make _something_ better. Still. He finds himself worrying about how sweaty his palms are, just a little.

He hopes fervently that he isn’t taking advantage of this situation. He doesn’t _think_ he is. You can end up second guessing yourself so much you get your own wires crossed.

Teddy’s phone rings, and he jumps. He stands up abruptly, answering the phone and walking to a quieter spot. He doesn’t let go of Billy’s hand until the last moment. Tommy doesn’t miss it, and raises his eyebrows.

“Not what you think,” Billy says wearily, and rubs his face. “His mom, she has this thing - _shit_ , Tommy, it’s so awful and I don’t know what to do.”

“I think you’ve pretty much got it,” Tommy says, making a vague gesture. “Not much else you _can_ do.”

“I think it’s really bad.” Billy glances behind him to where Teddy is on the phone, looking worried, but not miserable, which can only be a good sign. Or at least, not a really bad one. 

Tommy sighs, his eyes flickering over to  Teddy. “You know, the whole school thinks you’re dating.”

“We’re not, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Tommy repeats, drawing out the word. Billy scowls. “Of course you’re not dating. Because if you _were_ , you’d be doing dating stuff.”

“Exactly.”

“Like holding hands under the table. Or sucking face by the lockers. Or having epic ‘study sessions’ because one of you is ‘failing’ Chem-”

Billy throws a balled-up napkin at him. “You’re being deliberately obtuse.”

“Must be something in the water,” Tommy says snidely, and apparently that’s his parting shot, because he grabs his trays and leaves. He’s been disappearing at lunch, lately, and Billy never thought to ask why. He’s a terrible brother, and a useless friend.

A few moments later, Teddy slips back into the seat next to him, and sighs. It’s somewhere between relief and exhaustion and resignation, but it’s not awful. It’s not _sad_.

“All good,” he says, with forced cheer, and turns back to his food. Billy frowns.

“Teddy.”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t look up from his food, so Billy grabs his hand again, to punctuate his point.

“No one can solo high school,” he says, “so stop _trying_.”

Teddy looks up at him after that, startled into smiling. “Hey, stop stealing my wisdom.”

“So start following it.” 

Teddy shuffles in his seat, shrugs weakly. “I’m not trying to solo - I’m just -”

“Look,” Billy says, and it’s _ridiculous_ they haven’t done this yet, it’s just ridiculous. “With all the stupid grounding rules, I don’t think I’m going to be online much. Give me your phone, I’ll give you my number.”

Teddy produces his phone wordlessly, and Billy enters his number and hands it back to him with a stern expression.

“Just call or text or something, okay?” He says, and the _so you don’t have to feel shitty and have no one to talk to_ isn’t said, but he hopes it’s implied. Either that or it’s a really poorly timed and aggressive come-on, and he hopes fervently Teddy does _not_ think that. “Come to the computer room with me? It’s probably breaking the conditions of my grounding but like _hell_ am I losing my monopoly on Living Steel.”

Teddy cracks a proper smile after that.

 

*

 

What do you even _do_ without the internet?  Live an empty husk of a life, apparently.

Billy sends Kate a quick email outlining the grounding situation with his allocated internet time, wastes ten minutes staring blankly at google, and another ten glumly checking his usual blogroll. Then, that’s his half an hour up.

“I just want you to know,” he declares, draping himself melodramatically over the back of the couch, “that you’re ruining my life.”

“Good to know,” Jeff says, and promptly goes back to ignoring him.

“Well, at least we’ve finally found the secret to getting you to spend time with us,” his mom adds wryly. “We’ve been trying to get you to leave your room for _years_.”

“There’s nothing for me there anymore,” Billy says, sliding down onto the couch. “I even folded all my clothes. Did you know I have _thirty three_ socks, yet only four pairs? How is that even possible?”

Rebecca makes a show of feeling his forehead with mock concern, and Billy swats her away, grumbling. 

“You could fold mine,” Jeff suggests.

“Oh my god,” Billy says, “do you even realise how off the scale of dad jokes that is?”

“Or you could iron my shirt for tomorrow.”

“ _Dad_.” 

“Seriously, it would be really helpful.”

Then Billy yelps because his phone starts vibrating, squirming around awkwardly to locate the correct pocket. He holds it aloft. “Finally, a human connection!”

“And what are we?” Tommy grumbles from his slumped position in front of the television. 

“Lesser mortals,” Jeff tells him, “evidently.”

Billy ignores them, reading the text message. He tries to keep his face impassive; any sign of emotion while looking at your phone is a sure fire route to interrogation.

“Is it Teddy?” Rebecca asks, and Billy starts. Apparently they’re skipping the interrogation and heading straight for accusations. 

“Well, _yes_ ,” Billy says, thinking cool thoughts and willing his cheeks not to turn pink, “but I do have other friends too, you know.”

“Mmmhm,” Rebecca says, “how is he?”

“Goo-ood,” Billy says tentatively, eyes flickering down to the text that asks if he’s free. “He, er. I’m just going to see what he wants.”

He dashes from the room before Tommy can make a snarky comment - not that it’ll stop him, but at least Billy won’t have to hear it this way.

He dials the number on the way up to his room.

“Hey,” he says, with no preamble. “Everything good?”

“No,” Teddy says, and Billy’s heart lurches for a moment before his brain registers Teddy’s teasing tone. “We’re down a healer.”

“Yeah?” Billy collapses onto his bed. “You know I’d be there, but…”

“See, that’s the thing,” Teddy says, “you _can_ be here. Sort of.”

“Go on.”

“Do you think if I logged into Wiccan, and you gave me instructions down the phone, that would be breaking your mom’s rules?”

Billy sits up, grinning. “Not as such, no.”

“A loophole! I knew it.”

“Won’t you be missing a tank?”

“Nah,” Teddy says, sounding something close to frustrated. “Nate’s sulking, Cassie’s trying to smooth things over - anyway, it’s basically me, Eli, Kate, Jonas and America. We’re down to a dungeon team, and we have a surplus tank and no healer. Then I had my _genius plan_ -”

“It’s only genius if it works.”

“Sure it will.” Billy can hear the sound of Teddy typing. “So I know your email, but what’s your password?”

“I - uh,” Billy says, “look, okay, I just want you to know that we all do things we regret and you’re not allowed to laugh at me because-”

“Password, Billy,” Teddy says, and his voice is laughing even if he isn’t. “Spill.”

“I thought I was being funny, okay?”

“I’m waiting.”

“Oh god, okay,” Billy says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “First letters of each word are all capitals.”

“Uhuh.”

“Guardian. Of.”

“Mmhmm,” Teddy says, and there’s definitely a muffled laugh this time. “Guardian of what, Billy?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Out of my hands,” Teddy says cheerfully. “I mean, what if I put it in wrong? If I do that three times you could get your account blocked.”

“ _Ass_ , asshole,” Billy mutters, and Teddy makes a delighted sound down the phone.

“So is that one ‘s’, or two…?”

“Shut up.”

“It’s just that Asgardian only had one ‘s’-”

“It’s a butt joke!” Billy says, overly loudly, remembering too late his door is open. Oh well. “I said it, you happy?”

“Very,” Teddy says, “it made my evening. Now, what am I binding to what?”

 

*

 

Thirty minutes later, Tommy walks in on Billy sitting on his bed tersely bellowing numbers into his phone, interspersed with the occasional: “Oh god, just spam them all, _spam everything_ ”. He stands in the doorway, squinting at Billy in confusion that slowly turns into comprehension.

“That’s _cheating_.” He sounds scandalised.

“Four,” Billy hisses. “No, _four_ , Teddy - it is not cheating. I’m merely having an extremely interactive phone call in which I act in an advisory capacity, to, er-”

“It’s definitely cheating.” Tommy looks mournful. “Where do I get a boyfriend who lets me play down the phone?”

“ _Six - no, seven_. Advisory. Capacity.” Billy repeats, and then covers the mouth of his phone and lowers his voice. “Also, not my boyfriend. As we’ve established.”

“We really haven’t,” Tommy says, “but okay.”

“FOUR!” Billy shrieks, as much at Tommy as Teddy, and he backs slowly out the room with his hands raised. 

 

*

 

“So, it was totally a great idea,” Teddy says later, when Billy has shrieked his way through an entire dungeon. “Right?”

“Some career advice,” Billy says, “you’ll never make a seeing eye dog.”

“I thought I did okay!”

“For future reference, ‘help me, Billy, the thing’s doing the thing’ is not an adequate description. I need a _little_ more to go on than that, generally.”

“It _was_ doing the thing!”

Billy snorts. “Sure. Look, I have to go before mom’s on my case - is everything okay? I mean.” He chews his lip, unsure how to put it. “Are _you_ okay?”

“Fine,” Teddy says, without his usual overtone of bravado. “Just killing time until Carol’s home.”

“So late?” Billy tucks his legs beneath him. 

“It’s not unusual,” Teddy admits, “she just got a sort of promotion... thing. Long hours and stuff.”

“Right,” Billy says, biting back his knee jerk comments about how lonely and horrible that must be. He’s just supremely lucky, he needs to remember that. “I guess she must have to be away overnight, sometimes.” Again, this is Billy being genuinely concerned and not a weird, aggressive come-on, though he keeps accidentally making those today. He smacks his face with his hand.

“Yeah,” Teddy says, “it’s kind of nice, though, so you can stop feeling sorry for me.”

“I wasn’t!”

“You were,” Teddy teases, “I could hear it from here.”

“I guess I just don’t know what having space feels like,” Billy says, propping himself against his pillow. “So I assume it’s horrible.”

“It’s nice,” Teddy says firmly, and he sounds like he believes it, but like he’s also trying to convince himself at the same time. “Not that I know what it's like living with three brothers-”

“Brothers? They’re awful,” Billy says immediately. “Terrible. Would not recommend, F minus.”

Tommy bangs on the wall indignantly. “Hey!”

“See?” Billy says, “I’m not even allowed to have a private conversation without some kind of obnoxious intervention. You’re right, Teddy, space sounds excellent. I’m incredibly jealous.”

Teddy’s laugh is sincere, but a little wistful.

 

*

 

The next evening, Wanda calls. Rebecca has a brief, hushed chat with her in the kitchen, before wandering through to the den with a worried and bewildered expression. 

“That was your mom,” she says, “she was just checking you weren’t online.”

Billy gestures at the half-hearted game of cards he and Tommy are having.  “Nope.”

“Well, she said-” Rebecca rubs her brow, “-she said you were ‘dancing naked in the auction house’, whatever that means, and she’s worried-”

Tommy bursts into laughter. “Amazing.”

“She’s worried,” Rebecca continues, “that you may have been hacked?”

“Nah,” Tommy says, grinning ear to ear. “He just needs to call Altman and tell him to put his clothes back on.”

Billy lets his head fall onto the table. He should just get it glued there, to be honest. It’s his usual state of being.

 

*

 

Billy is late to lunch on Friday, having ducked into the computer room to check his auctions. He slumps down on their usual table, a little out of breath, to find only Tommy.

“No Teddy?”

“Nope,” Tommy says, and they shoot each other warily concerned looks.

“He might have a study group,” Billy says, without much conviction. “Homework to finish.”

Teddy didn’t call last night. Billy didn’t call _him._ He played a horrendous game of Scrabble with Tommy instead, in which the actual dictionary was replaced with Urban Dictionary, and Tommy won spectacularly with slang terms for genitalia.

Tommy shrugs. “Maybe.” 

“Oh, _shit_ ,” Billy says, and buries his face in his hands.

 

*

 

He has this horrible feeling about Teddy’s absence, and he has this horrible feeling that he’s _right_ , and he knows exactly where to go.

Round the L-shape at the of the library, next to the Chemistry textbooks, although he doubts it’s deliberate, is Teddy. He’s probably not here to cram. He’s in Billy’s favourite spot, back against the wall, with an expression on his face Billy never wanted to see.

“Do I have to explain,” Teddy says shakily, “or is there any chance you could just guess, because I don’t think I can say it, and I could really do with someone knowing without me having to actually _say._ ”

“You don’t have to say,” Billy says, and he slides down the wall to sit next to Teddy. “You shouldn’t be at school-”

“Yeah, and what are my options?” Teddy says bleakly. “Sit in my aunt’s house and think about how alone in the world I am?”

Billy winces. “Teddy-”

“It’s not even my house.” Teddy stares dully ahead. “I don’t belong anywhere anymore-”

“You do,” Billy says forcefully, and throws his arms around Teddy as best he can, awkwardly squashed between the stacks. “You _do_.”

They stay smushed together until the bell rings five minutes later, when Teddy pulls away and rubs his bloodshot eyes with the heels of his hands. They’re wet. "I'd better go to Chem."

"I think Pym will understand if you skip it this once.”

"I have a quiz," Teddy says forlornly. “That’s why - well, it’s one reason I came in at all.”

"You can take it next week.”

Teddy picks at his shoe. “Do you think?”

“I’m positive.”

“I don’t know what else to do with myself.” Teddy says, “I don’t want to go to Carol’s.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Billy says, and it’s only then he realises he’s not going to class, either. Teddy looks painfully guilty and on the verge of protesting, but he doesn’t. He just looks exhausted.

“I’m so tired,” he says, almost a plea. Billy squeezes his hand.

“Let’s get out of here.”

 

*

 

He takes Teddy to his, because it’s raining and he’s all out of ideas. Teddy looks grateful enough that he’s reasonably sure it wasn’t a terrible decision. Teddy gravitates to his room, so he follows anxiously.

“Food?” He says desperately. “Crisps? Coffee?”

“Coffee would be nice,” Teddy says weakly, sitting on his bed. “Maybe some aspirin?”

“Can do.”

Billy fumbles around the kitchen, emptying cupboards frantically. He locates some painkillers and makes two excessively strong cups of coffee, dashing back upstairs as quick as he can.

Teddy is asleep on his bed, sprawled uncomfortably sideways. He looks… awful. A little depleted, and a lot exhausted. Billy still wants to wrap him in bubblewrap, but it's painfully obvious he can't. What _can_ he do?

Billy puts the coffee down very quietly on his desk, and briefly debates waking him. It’s probably best to let him sleep. It goes against his own personal philosophy, but sleep is sometimes better than caffeine. 

He sits silently at his desk, appropriating both mugs of coffee, and works on his homework as quietly as he can.

 

*

 

His mom gets home first, and it’s possible he’s imagining it, but even her key turning in the lock sounds angry. He creeps down the stairs to intercept her as soon as possible.

He’s right: she’s angry. “Billy-”

“Wait,” he says desperately, holding up his hands. “Let me just explain.”

“Please do.” Rebecca’s tone is sharp. “Your school called to say you hadn’t been in any of your afternoon classes-”

“I haven’t,” Billy says, “because Teddy’s mom-” he swallows, reluctant to say it. Teddy hasn’t said it. They’re not making it real yet. “He’s asleep upstairs. I have his aunt’s number, you should call and let her know where he is.” He thrusts a piece of paper in Rebecca’s direction. 

She takes it, her forehead creasing in worry, and sighs. “I had an excellent speech prepared. Some great bits about respecting the limits we set you, and fostering open discussion of the rules we set that you feel are unfair, that sort of thing.” She cracks a sad, half smile. “Honestly, it was one of my better ones, I'm almost sad you won't get to hear it."

“Sounds really inspirational,” Billy says, “I’m sure it was, um.”

They share a half-smile across the hallway, and then Billy launches himself at her, wrapping his arms round her waist and squeezing tight. He’s so selfish and so lucky, and so very, very glad to have her. She ruffles his hair.

“When did it happen?” She asks quietly, and he shakes his head.

“I don’t know, he hasn’t really talked about it.” He chews on his lip. “I didn’t know what to do, but I couldn’t let him go to class.”

“I know,” Rebecca says, and kisses the top of his head. “I’ll call his aunt, okay?”

“Okay.” He peels his arms from around her reluctantly. 

He tiptoes back upstairs, edges through the door carefully - but Teddy is still asleep. He can hear the gentle rumble of his mom’s conversation with Carol through the floor, and the clatter of the front door that means the boys are home, who start chattering away loudly the minute they’re through the doorway. Billy pushes his door shut with a click.

Teddy’s eyelids flutter tellingly, but if he’s going to pretend it didn’t wake him up, so is Billy. 

 

*

 

Carol collects him in a few hours, and they fidget in the doorway of Billy’s bedroom. It feels a lot like a moment where they'd hug, but also there are at least four people craning their necks at them up the stairs, and it’s weird and loaded, and never quite as simple as it should be. 

Billy thrusts his murlock plushie at Teddy instead.

“I’ll miss him, though,” he says, “you’ll have to call every day and let me speak to him.”

“I’ll take good care of him,” Teddy promises. He squeezes the plushie solemnly, and it triggers the weird murlock sound effects. Billy bites his lip to keep from laughing, and nudges his shoe against Teddy’s.

“Text me?”

“I will,” Teddy says, and lets Carol usher him out the door. Billy shoots his mom a stricken look.

“They’re both taking the day off tomorrow, they have some things to discuss.” Rebecca pulls Billy into a hug. “So do we.”

Billy doesn’t even care what that means. “Okay.” He clings to her extra tightly.

 

*

 

It’s just him and Tommy again at lunch, like old times. They flick peas at each other in the name of nostalgia.

“Is it weird for him?” Tommy says, out of the blue. “That you have three parents, and he has none?”

“Four, technically, if we count our biological dad,” Billy say absently, “and so do you.”

“Mary and Frank don’t count,” Tommy says shortly, flicking another pea his way.

“I didn’t mean them,” Billy says, and Tommy blanches. 

He shakes his head, but says: “I guess.”

Billy can’t help but smile at that. “They count you.”

Tommy rolls his eyes aggressively. “They’re sentimental idiots who collect strays. Don’t go all emotional on me.”

That’s _definitely_ an agreement, even if it doesn’t sound like it. Billy is positive.

“Where’ve you been, anyway?” Billy prods his arm. “This is the first lunch I’ve seen you stay here the whole time. Where do you go?”

“I’m helping out at the elementary school down the road,” Tommy says, and Billy laughs. Tommy raises an eyebrow.

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.” Tommy frowns at him. “How d’you think I’m wheedling my way back into the principal’s good books? I’m a model citizen, don’t you know. Community ties and shit.”

“So mercenary,” Billy tuts, “haven’t their pure souls brought joy and happiness into your empty life?”

“Not so much,” Tommy says, “but they puke on my shoes sometimes, just to shake things up.”

“Nice.”

“I’ve got them on Runescape,” Tommy continues, “using my powers for good, and all that.”

“For evil, you mean.”

Tommy grins. “There’s this girl - Molly - and I’ll make a fantastic rogue out of her yet, just wait and see.”

“They shouldn’t let you near children.”

“I’m a brilliant influence, actually,” Tommy says, affronted. “She draws me _pictures_. They _like_ me.”

“Amazing,” Billy says, more to himself than anything. “The world is amazing.”

 

*

 

“Okay,” Billy says, spreading his hands. “Last time you called a ‘family meeting’, Tommy turned up in a bundle on the doorstep, so you’ll excuse me if I’m nervous.”

“Family meeting?” Tommy lifts his head from the table. “I thought we were having dinner.” He sounds disappointed.

“In an hour,” Jeff says, amused. “Business first, food later.”

“Business?”

“What about the boys?” Billy says. “Don’t they count?”

“If you recall,” Rebecca says, “Michael derailed our last meeting for 30 minutes protesting our continued use of broccoli as a foodstuff.”

“But we never have broccoli,” Tommy says slowly. “Do we?”

“It was a condition of you living here,” Jeff informs him cheerfully. “It’s also my favourite vegetable.”

“I miss it,” Billy stares wistfully into the middle distance. “Could we sneak some in? Have it while he’s at practice or something?”

“And violate the democratic method?” Jeffs affects a scandalised face. “Yeah, we definitely should.”

“No.” Rebecca points a finger at each of them in turn. “We are _not_ derailing this meeting with broccoli discussion, I will _not_ allow it.”

“No broccoli,” Jeff agrees, a little mournfully. “Please, go on.”

Rebecca rolls her eyes, before schooling her face into something a little more serious. It’s not directed at Billy, because it’s a _family_ meeting, but it feels that way, somehow. “I spoke to Carol last night. Did you know she was promoted?”

“Yeah.” Billy shuffles in his seat. “Well, vaguely.”

“She doesn’t know whether to take it.” She’s looking right at Billy. “Now she has sole custody of Teddy.”

“Long hours, I guess,” Billy supplies, unsure what she wants from him. “But she can’t turn down a promotion, right? It’s a big deal.”

“Even if she does, she’s not around often as it is.”

“She can’t quit her job,” Billy says impatiently, frustrated at where this conversation is going. In circles, that is, and with an pervading air of disapproval that he _really_ doesn’t like. “Look, she didn’t plan for this, it's not her fault she's not in a good position to-”

“I know,” Rebecca says, “which is why I said Teddy should come live with us.”

Tommy and Billy blink back at her, a little dumbstruck. “You said what?”

“Pending your approval, obviously.” Rebecca says, eyes flickering across to Jeff. 

“Yeah,” Tommy says immediately. Billy just flounders in confusion.

“Bill?” Jeff prompts, his eyes sharp. “Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

“No - no! I’m just-” he gestures ineffectively. “Wow, really?”

“They’re going for a lovable collection of stray teenagers, I think,” Tommy says wryly, and Jeff ruffles his hair fondly.

“Where will we put him?” Billy rubs his forehead. “I don’t know that my room can take another mitosis.”

“We’ve thought about that,” Rebecca says, “and now that I’ve stopped working from home, my office is going spare. It’ll take a while until I can get it cleared, but we can manage until then.”

“We could put the cot in Tommy’s room,” Jeff suggests. “Don’t snore, do you, Tom?”

Billy sniffs. “Only at a hundred and thirty decibels, or something.”

“It’s fine, he can have my bed.” Tommy waves that suggestion aside. “I’ll go in Billy’s.”

“On the floor,” Billy amends. “You can go in Billy’s room on _the floor_.”

“How about,” Jeff interjects, “Billy takes Tommy’s bed, Teddy takes Billy’s, and Tommy is on the floor in Tommy’s, wait,  no - Billy’s-”

“I could have the sofa-”

Billy shakes his head. This is all needlessly complicated. “Am I missing something here?” He asks, gesturing between them. “Why does Tommy have to move at all?”

“Um, _yeah_ , Billy,” Tommy says, “you kind of are.”

“Well, if you’d be so kind-”

“They think you’re banging, you idiot,” Tommy says, looking both apologetic and delighted. “Don’t give me that look, you made me say it-”

“I - we - _no_ \- we’re not!” Billy thinks he might be dying. Maybe he’s dead already? Maybe this is his own personal hell.

“It’s okay if you and Teddy are, um." Jeff says awkwardly, evidently feeling that’s the right thing to do. It isn’t.They should drop it _immediately_ and never talk about it again. "Dating, that is."

“Teddy’s not my - we’re _not_.”

“Okay,” Rebecca says placidly, “but I still think Teddy would rather have some space of his own, don’t you?”

“I think so,” Jeff chimes in, and Billy relaxes a little as the conversation moves away from his (ironically absent) sex life. Although -

Oh, man. This is as good an opening as he’s ever going to get. Oh _no_. He clears his throat.

“Um, although. The, uh, underlying sentiment. That is, if we consider this in the abstract sense. You - em, well, I. The thing is-”

Tommy rests his chin in his hands. “Go on.”

“Will you _shut up?_ ” Billy demands, pointing at him aggressively. “This is supposed to be one of the defining moments of my life and you’re sitting there being an asshole-”

“This,” Tommy says fervently, “is the best thing I have ever seen.”

“ _Shut up!_ ”

“Billy, it’s okay,” Rebecca says, “We understand. It doesn’t have to be a defining moment if you don’t want it to be. Would you like some coffee?”

“Me too, please,” Jeff says, and Tommy grunts, and Billy opens and closes his mouth a few times in sheer bewilderment. Did he just - did that just happen? Well.  He’s relieved, but he also feels somewhat cheated.

That little spark of disbelief grows into a fully fledged flourish of defiance, and he slams his hand down on the table.

“I’m gay!” he says loudly, and everyone stares at him oddly. “I’m really gay!”

“Okay,” Jeff says cheerfully. 

“Yeah, we got that,” Tommy says, faking a yawn. “Oh, sorry, was that _news_? My bad.”

“ _Tommy_.” Rebecca whacks him gently over the back of the head with a spoon. “Just because people know something doesn’t make it easier to tell them.” 

“So,” Billy says, “you’re not even going to pretend like you’re surprised?”

“Sorry, Bill,” Jeff says, and rustles his newspaper. Billy scowls at him with feeling. "Would you rather I did?"

“To be fair,” Tommy says, “you kind of invited Teddy over to make eyes at him for, like, four hours in front of everyone, so-”

“I did not-” Billy begins indignantly, only to break off in shock at Rebecca biting her lip at the coffee machine and Jeff pulling his paper up in front of his face. He slides down in his chair in mortification. “Oh my god. He’s _not my boyfriend_.”

“I know,” Rebecca says, passing him a mug of coffee. “But I still think you and Tommy should share, for the time being.”

Billy is incredibly confused. “I... wasn’t suggesting otherwise?”

Tommy cocks his head at Billy and grins. “If you hadn’t noticed, that’s her way of saying she’s pretty sure he’s gonna be soon.”

“No it _isn’t_.” Billy splutters, narrowing his eyes at Tommy over his coffee.

Rebecca pats Tommy’s hair, but otherwise declines comment rather tellingly, so Billy slides further down in his chair and covers his face with his hands.

“Your mom has confidence in your seduction skills,” Tommy continues, and places a mock-serious hand on Billy’s shoulder. “And so do I, little bro.”

Billy is practically under the table. “I hate you, I hate this family, I hate everything.”

“That’s the spirit,” Jeff says, and turns the page of his paper.

“You’ll have to tell Michael,” Rebecca says thoughtfully. “I think he made you a card.”

Billy gives up and lets himself slide completely onto the floor.

 

*

 

Teddy calls after dinner, and Billy’s almost afraid to answer it. He sits on his bed frowning at his phone for a good ten seconds before he convinces himself he’s being an idiot. What if Teddy said _no_? What if he was supposed to say no? 

He answers, a thousand hurried excuses prepared, but Teddy just squeezes the murlock down the phone at him. The tinny noise sounds even more ridiculous down the phone line, and Billy bursts out laughing.

“He missed you too,” Teddy says. “He’s been moping.”

“I hope you hugged him lots.”

“Yeah, a bit. I mean, pfft, whatever. I’m too old for toys.”

“Oh, that’s how it is,” Billy says, “I bestow my most precious possession upon you, and you reject-”

“Thank you, Billy,” Teddy says, and he’s gone all serious and intense. “Really.”

Billy bites his lip. “Well, it is a pretty high quality plushie.”

“Not just the murlock,” Teddy says, “although obviously, he’s been, um, invaluable.”

“You hugged him.”

“I hugged him,” Teddy admits, “there was, to some extent, some hugging action.”

“My cunning plan,” Billy says, and grins down at his shoes. “But - Teddy?”

“Yes?”

“How are you?” It sounds oddly formal. He hopes he’ll get a real answer.

“Well.” Teddy sighs thoughtfully down the line. “Not great, to be honest.”

“You seem a bit better,” Billy ventures, and hopes that’s not too insensitive.

He sighs down the phone again. “It’s hard,” Teddy says, “explaining this to you, even though you’re my best friend, and I want to talk to you about it more than anyone.”

Billy picks at his sleeve. “I know.”

“The thing is,” Teddy says, “this has been coming for a long time. It doesn’t make it better, but it’s - it’s different. I’ve had a lot of time to think about how this would feel.”

Unthinking, Billy blurts out: “That sounds _worse_.”

“It’s different,” Teddy says, but his tone says he agrees. “It’s just different.”

Billy exhales slowly. “And here I am doing stupid things like lending you plushies, like it means _anything_ -”

“Excuse you,” Teddy says indignantly, “I have had some exceptionally high quality hugs from this plushie, so I’ll thank you not to abuse it.”

Billy laughs in disbelief. “You’re like, a stupidly perfect human being, you know that?”

Teddy clears his throat. “Um.”

Billy takes a chance. “You’ll be my parents’ favourite, I can tell.”

Teddy is silent for a painstaking ten seconds. Finally, tentatively, he says: “Billy, you don’t have to say yes just because you feel bad for me-”

“Shut up,” Billy says, “it’ll be fun.”

Teddy laughs weakly down the line. “It isn’t weird?”

“Not weird,” Billy says firmly, “not weird at all, I promise. Also, it’ll improve our raid performance by at least fifty percent.”

“Obviously,” Teddy says dryly, “why do you think I agreed? Priorities, Kaplan.”

That sort of breaks Billy’s heart, however lightly Teddy jokes. “For real, though,” he says, adjusting the phone onto his other ear, “do we have a time scale? We spent far too long talking about, uh -” Billy’s eyes goes wide. Crap. Does he _tell_ Teddy about that conversation? He’s sort of involved. Sort of. “- broccoli.” He finishes lamely, and curses his lack of nerve.

“Broccoli?”

“We don’t eat broccoli.” He babbles. “I hope you don’t, like, have a deep attachment to it or anything. We could always sneak some in.”

“I’ll… cope?” Teddy says slowly, sounding about as nonplussed as you’d expect. “I think Carol was talking about starting moving some stuff at the weekend. She has this conference next week.”

“Wow,” Billy rubs the back of his neck. “I mean, awesome. But wow.”

“That sounds bad, like she wants rid of me.” Teddy says hurriedly, “but it’s not.”

“I get it, don’t worry.”

“What I wouldn’t give,” Teddy says fervently, in a voice so honest Billy isn’t sure he’s heard it before, “to just not be a burden on someone for one _second_.”

“I’ll take you,” Billy says, without thinking. “I mean, I need my plushie back anyway, so.”

“So.”

“So you might as well just move in,” Billy says. “It’s only sensible.”

“For the good of the guild,” Teddy adds, and Billy laughs.

 

*

 

There’s a committee waiting for him after school.  Kate leaps out at him, grabbing him by the collar.

“Billy,” she berates him, “you haven’t been replying to my emails.”

“I’ve not been online, remember?” He glances over her shoulder at Eli and Jonas. “Um, hi? Look, I’m really sorry, but I’ve had my internet access cruelly taken away from me, and there’s not much I can do.”

“Nate quit,” Eli supplies. “He had the stupidest tantrum I’ve ever seen, and left. It was very dramatic.”

“Cassie’s on damage control, she won’t log in until he does,” Kate continues, looking desperate. “We don’t know _where_ Teddy’s been, Nate had a huge blow up with America and she’s gone AWOL.”

“David’s refusing to get involved,” Jonas adds tentatively. 

“It’s a mess, Billy,” Kate says, “we need you. You need to convince everyone-”

“Woah, _woah_ ,” Billy holds his hands up. “Me? Do you remember the part where I’m _banned from the internet_? Because,” he glances at her sharply, “you and Tommy thought it would be fun to casually _break the law_ , by the way.”

He’s filled with a sudden, slightly irrational anger. _We don’t know_ where _Teddy’s been_. Exasperated and entitled. Had they bothered to ask? Had they even bothered to check in with their missing guildies? Because of _course_ no one else would have anything better to do than play games, of _course_ keeping the guild together was everyone’s number one priority. 

“You founded the guild,” Eli says, “along with Nate. Don’t you care-”

“No!” Billy yelps, and everyone flinches. “Right now, I don’t really care, _no_. I have a thousand things going on, and I do not physically _have time_ to care about this at the moment, okay?”

“We can’t let them win,” Eli takes an angry step forward. “If we disband now, they’ll get what they want.”

“So don’t disband,” Billy snaps, wrenching himself from Kate’s grasp and stalking off, stupidly angry and unable to convince himself otherwise. “Simple.”

“Billy-”

“I’m done with this,” he says, “all we’ve done is make things worse.”

They gawp after him. He doesn’t care.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Sad: I follow canon for Momma Altman's storyline :( 
> 
> I'm so sorry this took so long! Thank you if you're still here <3 I did not want to write the Sad but knew the Sad was part of the whole thing I had plotted out, and I've also been super busy, and this combined into a disgracefully long time between updates. I should be quicker this time! 
> 
> Big hugs to Laura and Jet for their input!


	7. vii. Mass Res

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which shit gets soppy and there is a treasure hunt.

His mom joins him for breakfast, in that semi-sinister way that parents have, where they join you, but they don’t _join_ you. She had her breakfast hours ago, probably, and she’s not even nursing a coffee to complete the illusion. She just sits down silently opposite him, arms folded on the table, considering him thoughtfully. Very ominous.

“Morning,” he says cautiously, pausing between mouthfuls of cereal.

Rebecca grins, and slides a piece of paper across the table. “Morning.”

Billy eyes it suspiciously. “What’s that?”

“The wifi password,” Rebecca says, and leans back in her chair. “Of course, if you don’t want it-”

“Funny,” Billy says, slapping his hand down on the folded paper as she makes an exaggerated movement towards it. “Thank you,” he adds, turning it over in his fingers without unfolding it. “But isn’t it - I mean, I didn’t think-” He cuts himself off, before he sabotages the situation entirely.

“A little earlier than planned, but things change,” Rebecca says. “It didn’t seem fair. I’d be giving Teddy the password and asking him to keep it from both of you.”

Billy doesn’t follow the logic, but he’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Did you tell Tommy?”

“You can pass it on,” Rebecca says, and gives him a piercing look. “Right?”

Billy shrugs. “Right.”

He thinks about unfolding it, but puts it in his pocket instead, where it stays, unopened.

 

*

 

“This is so weird,” Billy whispers, squashed up on his least favourite side of the bed. Tommy can’t be persuaded to sleep on the couch he so graciously accepted four hours ago, and Billy’s not moving. It’s _his_ bed. 

So they’re vying for precious bed real estate and Billy is losing, because he got the short end of the gene stick and just isn't as pointy.

“Only because you’re making it weird,” Tommy grumbles, and nudges Billy even further over. “Gimme some room.”

“You’ve got all the room already!” Billy says, before adding sheepishly: “Also, I’m not making it weird.”

“Are so.”

Okay, so he is, a little bit. Teddy moved in semi-officially earlier that day, although his stuff is still to follow. Billy’s losing it, _completely_ losing it. He knocked his drink over three times at dinner, babbled incoherently instead of making normal conversation, and performed a five minute long soliloquy in the bathroom about toothpaste to a bewildered Teddy. They only had mint. Was that okay? Is spearmint okay? If he’d known he would _definitely_ have checked they had something else, because spearmint can be kinda overpowering and a lot of people really aren’t into it - 

“Billy, sometimes a guy just wants to pee in peace, okay?” Tommy said, and forcibly yanked him from the bathroom. He was mortified. Teddy just laughed.

Yeah, he’s being a bit weird. Because it _is_ weird.

“I feel weird,” Billy whispers again, because even though Tommy is making no attempt at volume control, he knows first hand how much sound carries through that wall. And _Teddy’s_ on the other side. “It’s so weird, Tommy, I’m _freaking out_.”

“Well, don’t.” Tommy says reasonably, and gives Billy what is presumably supposed to be a comforting kick. It’s mostly just sore, but whatever. “ _You_ get to keep your bed.”

“I am not having this discussion again,” Billy hisses, “my bed, my rules.”

“Words I never, _ever_ wanted to hear from my twin brother.”

“ _Tommy_.”

“I would’ve took the couch,” Tommy continues mournfully, “but it was cold.”

“Diddums.”

“Also, I don’t see why I shouldn’t get a bed because of _your_ unresolved-”

“Okay, okay,” Billy hisses. “Just - keep it down, alright?”

“I’m all for you resolving it, by the way - because I am a _supportive brother_ \- just not until Rebecca gets her office sorted out, because this wall is _thin_ -”

“Which is the point I’ve been trying to make!” Billy aims a half-hearted slap at Tommy’s arm. “Could we not talk about this, please?”

“Okay.” Tommy says, far too placidly. Billy sniffs, and they lie in silence for a few moments. Through the wall, there is the distinct sound of someone rolling over with a small sigh.

“Do you think we woke him?” Billy whispers.

Tommy shakes his head. “Would _you_ be sleeping right now?”

Billy sighs. “No.”

“There you go.” Tommy rearranges the pillow, gives Billy an appraising look through the darkness. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Go through,” Tommy says, in would-be casual tone. “He’s getting all the disadvantages of moving in with his best friend’s family, and none of the advantages.”

“Uh, because them _creeping into your room at night_ is an advantage?”

“It’s called being supportive, asshole,” Tommy says, and Billy can only gape. Tommy’s idea of supportive is clearly very different from his idea of supportive.

" _What_?”

"You'll never level up to boyfriend at this rate,” Tommy says, and wrenches the covers from him forcefully. “Now fuck off and be nice to him, I’m commandeering the bed.”

Billy finds himself kicked out the bed, where he stands and twists anxiously at his pyjamas, bare feet cooling down rapidly. “Shouldn’t I put pants on?”

Tommy just shoots him a disparaging look, so he shuffles out the doorway without further ado and creeps the few steps to Tommy’s bedroom door. Does he knock? That would be more noise than he feels like advertising to his parents. Just go in? He settles for a quick cursory tap and pushes the door open. 

“Hi,” he whispers, clicking the door shut and padding barefoot across the room. Teddy is awake, lying rigidly on his back like it’s something that he has to endure stoically. He looks surprised, but not displeased. “You awake?” It’s a pointless question, since he’s obviously and painfully awake, but it only seems polite. 

Teddy seems to be getting pretty good at cutting through Billy’s pointless questions, so just sighs. “Can’t sleep. What’s up?”

“Just checking,” Billy says lamely, settling at the bottom of Teddy’s bed, shivering a little. “On you?” He adds helpfully, and Teddy bites back a grin.

“You cold?”

“ _Yes._ ”

Teddy flips back a corner of the bedsheets and pats the mattress amiably. “Sit.”

Billy scoots up the bed gratefully and tucks his feet in. Any more feels invasive, but Teddy gives him an odd look, so he furtively slides his entire legs under. "Right."

"Tommy being pointy again?"

"Basically," Billy says, leaning back against the wall with a sigh. "I should've known he wouldn't stay on the sofa." 

"Sorry-"

"Don't you even," Billy warns, pressing his cold foot vengefully against Teddy, who squirms. "No apologies allowed."

"I am kind of taking up his room, though."

"Technically, my room." Billy's nods toward the hardboard wall. "Whole thing used to be mine. Dad put up the wall."

"Well, not to insult his work, or anything-"

"It's pretty thin, I know." Billy shrugs ruefully. "A word of advice: I wouldn’t put too much weight on it. There’s a hole by the other corner where Tommy stubbed his toe once. We stuffed a sock in it, which - hang on, _that’s_ where my missing sock is-"

"Isn't it... awkward?" Teddy asks, sliding upwards to sit beside him. 

_Not until now,_ Billy thinks. "Not really," he says. "I mean, Tommy has issues with boundaries anyway, so."

Teddy grins. "Just Tommy?"

"Look, if you're referring to the bathroom incident," Billy says, lifting his chin indignantly.  "That was a legit concern. I'm just being a good _host_ , which is also why I snuck through here to - oh, crap. To, um. Is this a bad boundary thing?" Billy gestures between them frantically. "Because please just kick me out if I'm-"

"Chill out, Billy," Teddy says, his eyes warm. "I'm here, I'm okay, I feel super grateful and just a little bit guilty. The toothpaste was great, you're great, don't worry. Thank you for caring."

Billy doesn't know quite how to arrange his face after that, and hopes desperately Tommy is asleep now because otherwise he's going to start fake retching any minute now. He waits a beat. No retching. He bumps Teddy's shoulder. 

"So, I'm _great_."

Teddy rolls his eyes good naturedly. "You're _cold._ "

"Terrible circulation," Billy says cheerfully, and presses his hands to Teddy's neck. 

"Oh my god."

"See?" Billy affects a mournful expression. "I'm an invalid from a gothic romance, probably."

Teddy makes a big show of tucking Billy in. "No invalids today," he says firmly, and Billy's smile falters a little. 

"This is a terrible idea," he says, wriggling contentedly. "I'll never leave now, I'm so warm. You'll regret this."

"I don't think Tommy'll mind."

"My mom might," Billy murmurs, before he can check himself. 

Teddy shifts beside him. "Huh?"

"I'm supposed to give you space to settle in," Billy says, which isn't _entirely_ a lie. 

"Please don't," Teddy says fervently, "I'm done with space right now."

Billy nods. "Well, as established, I'm not great at giving it, so that works out."

Teddy laughs quietly, and they lie in companionable silence. It's a little awkward, in a way, lying very still and rigid and trying not to encroach on Teddy’s personal space beyond the part where they’re literally sharing a single bed, and thus space is in short supply. It’s also not that awkward at all.

“Teddy, I’ve been thinking-”

“Dangerous.”

“Shut up.” Billy digs his elbow in Teddy’s vague direction. “It’s just - that, well.” He sighs, fidgets with the blanket. “So, you know _Mean Girls_?”

Teddy turns to face him with a puzzled but utterly delighted grin. “Yeah?”

“You know how she messes everything up and has to fix it?”

“And?”

“I feel kinda like I messed everything up and I need to, like,” Billy waves his hand inarticulately. “Fix it.”

Teddy squints. “Is this about you quitting the guild?”

“I guess. Some other stuff, too.”

“Okay,” Teddy says, rolling onto his elbow. “Like what?”

“I’ve been mean,” Billy says immediately, “I was mean to Kate, and I was mean to David, and I lied to everyone-”

“Billy, I think they’re over it. Honestly.”

Billy sets his mouth in a stubborn line. “ _I’m_ not. I need to fix it.”

Teddy looks like he’s trying not to laugh. “Sure, sure. So first, you need to join the Mathletes as penance -”

“ _Teddy_.”

“- and become Spring Fling Queen, thus successfully seducing your hot calculus tutor with your academic and social success."

“I don’t even do AP calculus,” Billy mutters. “I can’t - I can’t _math_.”

“Chem, then,” Teddy says carelessly, and Billy nearly falls out of bed. 

“Um, excuse you,” he says, in lieu of bursting into flame and dying a fiery, confused death. “I’m great at chemistry, if anything I _am_ the hot chem -” He stops, horrified. Nope, okay, fiery death it is. “Wait, ignore that part. I didn’t say that. Let’s just move on-”

Teddy is trying valiantly not to laugh but failing miserably, shaking the entire bed with suppressed laughter.

“ _Seriously_. I need to fix things.”

Teddy pulls himself together with a visible effort. “Okay, cool. Billy’s coming-of-age teen movie is go. What do you need to fix?”

“Well, first, full disclosure,” Billy says, and fidgets with the hem of his pajama top. “I need to tell you some things.”

Teddy freezes in a half-grin, starting to look somewhat concerned. “Uh oh.”

“My awful family may have jumped to some conclusions with regards to, uh, the exact nature of our relationship.” Billy winces as the words leave his mouth. “And if my little brother has made you a card with something like ‘congrats on the boyfriend’, please just ignore it, he just got some new glitter glue and he’s glitter glue happy and I’ve landed you in the sparkly crossfire. Sorry.”

Teddy blinks rapidly; it’s probably a lot to take in. “‘Congrats on the boyfriend’?”

“Yeah, well, it’s me - obviously not _really_ , because we’re not, um - but like I said, he’s gluing up a storm and he’s been pretty resistant to fact checking.” Billy had the good grace to blush at the horror that is his family. “I think he made us matching ones. If you put them next to each other, they make a heart shape.”

“That’s... kind of sweet.”

“It’s horrific,” Billy corrects him, and Teddy grins. “It’s nothing less than truly horrifying.”

“I’ll treasure it forever,” Teddy promises solemnly, one hand clasped sincerely to his chest. “A cherished token of the relationship we never had.”

Billy’s laughter bubbles up a little hysterically, with relief at Teddy taking it so well, and plain hysteria at the ongoing ridiculousness of the situation. Still, full disclosure. It feels better to know that Teddy won’t be taken unaware by his family’s intense and horrific interest in his (lack of a) love life, and by extension, Teddy’s. However _that_ happened. True full disclosure would be far more mortifying, and something he’s probably going to have to face up to at some point, but he’s not quite brave enough for that yet. Baby steps.

Instead, he regales Teddy with the story of Tommy’s arrival and the tragic loss of broccoli as a viable dinner option. He’s moved onto the thrilling tale of When Tommy Flooded `The Bathroom On His First Night (So Don’t Worry About Comparing Unfavorably) when he looks across to see Teddy snoring gently. He feels strangely accomplished, and so pleased with himself that he falls asleep then and there without a second thought.

He wakes up at 6am with a terrified jolt, extracts himself carefully and scurries back through to his room in a panic. He wedges himself back in beside Tommy, who yawns and mutters something that sounds like: "dirty stop out", which Billy does not appreciate.

 

 *

 

It's Teddy's first day, a lazy Sunday with nowhere to be. He looks tired, but not worryingly so, and the awkwardness of their lack of purpose is outweighed by the relief of the lack of pressure. A school day might have been easier in its own way, but Billy's glad for the gentler introduction.

They eat breakfast together the next morning, up before the boys, and presumably too late to join his parents. (Do they even _eat_ breakfast? Billy’s never seen them at it, he’s always assumed it happens before he manages to crawl out of bed and blink blearily at the fridge.) Billy never changes into actual clothes for breakfast, so shuffles down the stairs as usual in his pajamas. Tommy, always one step more inappropriately casual than the situation calls for, sits quite happily in his boxers. Teddy, by contrast, is fully dressed and ready for the day. Billy self-consciously tries to smooth his bed head down. 

Only Tommy seems unperturbed by the mounting awkwardness in the room. He’s possibly even enjoying it. 

Billy sticks his hand into his pajama pockets for something to do with them, one closing around the folded piece of paper he put there the other day. He pulls it out, slaps it down on the table.

Tommy blinks down at it. “What’s that?”

“The wifi password.”

“Since _when_ did you get that?” Tommy demands, and snatches it up. “What is _wrong_ with you?”

“I forgot,” Billy says, and it’s almost true. “Mom gave me it yesterday morning, and-”

“You’re useless,” Tommy declares, and unfolds the paper aggressively. “ _Finally_ , let’s just get the password, and-” He stops mid-sentence, his mouth still open. “Seriously?”

“Huh?”

“Did you read this?” Tommy points an accusing finger. “Are you _in on this_?”

“On what?” Billy shoots Teddy a panicked glance, who shakes his head and plucks the paper out of Tommy’s fingers. He struggles for several seconds trying desperately not to laugh, Tommy scowling.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing, Altman, this is _your_ problem now, too.”

“But… really?” Teddy says, amused and bewildered. “Really?”

“What does it _say_?” Billy whines, making grabby hand gestures across the table. “Is it not the password?”

“Not exactly,” Teddy says, still fighting a grin. “It says: ‘password is hidden somewhere in the house.’”

“Oh,” Billy says, and takes a moment to digest that information. It’s not his mom’s usual style, but she could definitely go for it. He smells a lot of his dad in this one. “Oh, man.”

“This is your fault,” Tommy accuses him weakly. “You should’ve opened it, you idiot.”

“You should’ve _not broken into someone’s house_ -”

“Okay!” Teddy says loudly, waving the treacherous piece of paper between them. “How about we work out how to do this efficiently and quickly, and we could be online by lunch?”

“It could be _anywhere_.”

“It’s probably not in your rooms,” Teddy says, and he’s being entirely too sensible for Billy’s liking right now, given that he wants to lie on the floor and make vaguely disgruntled noises. “So I think we can rule them out initially.”

“And the boys’,” Tommy adds, looking somewhat mollified, “or theirs.”

“Or the study, probably.”

“So let’s split up,” Teddy says, “Tommy can take the hallway, Billy can take the kitchen, I’ll take the bathroom, and we can all tackle the living room when we’re done.”

Tommy cracks his knuckles, and Billy winces. “Let’s go.”

 

*

 

Jeff makes himself a leisurely cup of coffee as Billy tears the kitchen apart, grinning far too widely for someone who is supposed to _love and support him_. 

“Did you check the trash?” He suggests innocently, and Billy glares at him. 

“Don’t think I don’t know exactly who’s behind this.”

“Oh, it was me,” his dad says cheerfully, raising his cup of coffee in proud acknowledgment. “Absolutely. Entirely my idea.” His smile falters only the tiniest amount at Billy’s unimpressed death stare, but he does back out the kitchen with his coffee rather hastily, leaving Billy to continue raiding the drawers in peace.

 

*

 

They find nothing, and Tommy insists they check their bedrooms despite Billy’s doubts that his parents would sneak into their rooms to hide something, but it's easier just to agree. As Tommy storms into his room looking increasingly grumpy, Teddy is left hovering outside both shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

"You can help with mine," Billy says, tugging at his sleeve, "come on."

The minute they're inside, Billy collapses on his bed.

"Oh thank _god_. I need a break."

Teddy laughs and sits beside him. "He's taking this very personally."

"They won't let us look forever, dad'll take pity on us eventually. Our best bet is probably just to practice looking mournful and downtrodden."

"Okay," Teddy says, affecting an appropriately miserable expression. "How's this?"

"Terrible,” Billy tells him, “you look like a kicked puppy.”

“Isn’t that the idea?”

“It’s too good,” Billy says, “I haven’t done anything and I already feel guilty.”

“Okay, so too much is bad?”

“Yep.” Billy lets out a brief snort of amusement. “Like, dad _knows_ that we’re faking, but he doesn’t want to _admit_ that he knows we’re faking, so we’ve got to keep it believable so he feels like he’s still messing with us, he loves -” Billy stops short, his jaw dropping. Could it be…? No. _No_. “He loves messing with us,” he finishing slowly. “Read out that sentence again. ‘Password is hidden’ - what?”

Teddy rummages in his pocket and pulls the piece of paper out. “‘Password is hidden somewhere in the house.’”

Billy pinches the bridge of his nose. “Oh my god. You know the sign on my door?”

“‘Speak friend and enter?’” Teddy says, smirking like he isn’t an enormous freaking nerd with boxes of magical fighting elves. Which he is. “Wait - do you think -”

Billy groans expansively. “It’s not even _funny_.”

Teddy smiles apologetically. “It is a bit funny.”

“It’s _not_. It’s terrible,” Billy says fervently, grabbing his phone and attempting connection with the wifi. “I hope I’m wrong.”

“Do you?” Teddy grins. “Or would you rather be going through the knives again with Tommy breathing down your neck?”

Billy groans again, and types in ‘hidden somewhere in the house’, hits ‘connect’, and waits. “Moment of truth.”

“Least there’s not a lake monster,” Teddy says, earning himself a baleful glare. There’s a crash from next door. “Unless Tommy counts?”

His phone connects to the wifi, and Billy exhales loudly and with exaggerated exasperation. “I can’t believe him. He made me look through the _trash_.”

Teddy is laughing in earnest now, clutching at his stomach. “Do we tell Tommy?” There’s another worryingly loud noise from the other side of the wall.

“Maybe not just yet,” Billy grins. “I think it could be a learning experience for him to unearth the horrors beneath his bed.”

“I don’t want to know about any horrors,” Teddy says, “seeing as how I’m sleeping above them.” His smile fades a little, as he turns suddenly very serious, tipping his head to one side and looking at Billy. “So, what now?” 

Billy stares at his knees. “I dunno. I quit, pretty much.”

“You could un-quit.”

“Maybe,” Billy says, and winces at the evasiveness of it. “I dunno, I think the guild might be done.”

“Done?”

Billy shrugs. “Kate said it was a mess, I think even if I hadn’t quit, stuff was finishing anyway.”

“Oh,” Teddy says, and it’s a lot sadder than Billy expected. “But it’s -” He gestures ineffectively. “It’s the best thing to happen to me in forever,” he finishes sheepishly, as if admitting it is pathetic. “I had fun, I made amazing friends, I discovered new and exciting milkshake flavours-” Billy laughs weakly at that one, “- and, well.” Teddy shifts his shoulders, almost embarrassed. “I met you.”

Billy intends to make a smart reply about being the ultimate guild perk, but he just ends meeting Teddy’s eyes in a mortifyingly sincere way and letting out a quiet agreement of: “Yeah.”

They just look at each other for a few moments, mortifying sincerity heavy on the ground, and Billy thinks vaguely that if Tommy was here he’d be knocking their heads together right about now.

What is the etiquette, exactly? What is the agreed procedure for ‘I have the biggest most embarrassing crush in the entire world on you and they can probably see it from the International Space Station and there’s a chance you might think I’m okay but you’re in a potentially vulnerable emotional state and also my parents have just semi-adopted you and you’re sleeping in my brother’s bed?’ 

Whatever it is, it’s probably _not_ leaning in the last ten inches between them, but what do you know, that is _exactly_ what Billy is doing, and - oh god, is he about to kiss him? He might be about to kiss him. This is not the plan. This is the opposite of the plan.

He kisses Teddy like he’s bewildered to find himself doing so, and Teddy kisses back like he is also somewhat puzzled that this is how things are panning out. It's as awkwardly endearing as it sounds. They bump their lips together and each let out a small surprised noise, and Billy fights a rising urge to giggle hysterically. He’d say confusion and bewilderment wasn’t what he was going for, but he has no idea what he _was_ going for, so he’ll take it. There’s a large part of his brain screaming “what are you even doing”, but there’s an even larger part throwing party streamers and cheering, so he goes with that one.

It’s a terrible, confused kiss, but neither of them really pull back, still hovering closer than would be acceptable in polite company. They both say “um,” at the same time, which leads to them both grinning against each other’s cheeks, which is so weirdly touching Billy forgets to feel confused.

There are at least five levels of inappropriate to this situation, probably.

So Billy grabs blindly at Teddy’s shirt and kisses him with more of that mortifying sincerity, edging further along the bed so their knees are touching. They’re kissing on his bed, there’s not a Chemistry textbook in sight, and it’s really great. Teddy leans into him, holding his wrists as he clutches at Teddy’s shirt for stability, but they lose their balance still, half toppling over.

It’s like a jolt to Billy’s brain, even as Teddy laughs into his mouth, because there feels like there’s a world of difference between kissing sedately perched on the edge of his bed, and kissing splayed out across it, and he leaps back up with sudden awareness of his door being very, very ajar. Likewise, Teddy scrambles back to a more dignified position, and they stare at each other.

“Okay-” he starts, determined to keep things clear and open this time, only to be interrupted by Tommy and his _terrible fucking timing_ , who barges in through the door with a furious screech. He wants to smother him.

“I can’t find it,” he growls, seemingly oblivious to the way Teddy and Billy are blinking at each other. “I can’t find a damn thing and - were you even _looking_?”

Billy tears his eyes away from Teddy and tries to look like he’s not been… doing exactly what he has been doing.

“Um, we found it! So to speak.”

“Okay.” Tommy holds his hand out, narrows his eyes. “Give me it,then.”

“It’s not hidden anywhere,” Billy says faintly, offering the offending piece of paper anyway. “It’s the password.”

“ _What_ is?”

“The password is ‘hidden somewhere in the house.’” Billy says, and sighs with renewed frustration. “I mean, _literally_ , the password is: hidden, space, somewhere, space, in, space, the, space, house.”

Tommy looks a little like he might scream. “That’s not funny.”

“Not even a little bit,” Billy agrees, and turns to Teddy, who doesn’t seem to know what expression he wants on his face. He lands somewhere between amused and nervous.

“I think it’s kind of funny?” He offers apologetically.

Tommy is still staring blankly ahead. "We just spent _over an hour_ turning the house upside down-"

"I know," Billy pats Tommy's elbow soothingly. "I went through the trash."

"I'll switch his coffee out with decaf," Tommy mumbles not at all threateningly, and slides down onto the floor with a long suffering groan, head propped against Billy's bed, eyes closed. "You'll regret this," he tells Teddy, "living with this family."

"Nah," Teddy says, giving Billy an unnecessarily brilliant smile. "Probably not." Billy can't help but grin back.

Tommy opens one eye to squint up at their exchange, Billy diligently avoiding his eyes as he frowns analytically at them. "Gross," he says by way of a conclusion, not quite quietly enough to be under his breath. Billy's ears turn a delicate pink. “Does this mean we’re not grounded anymore?”

“I guess.”

“Awesome.” Tommy  elbows Billy in the knee. “Then we’ve got a lunch date.”

“What?”

“Just put some clothes on,” Tommy says, with an excessive amount of disparagement for someone with an aversion to pants. “We’re leaving in twenty.”

 

*

 

Which is how, more or less, Billy gets rushed out the house with his hair still wet and with whatever conversation Teddy and he need to have shelved indefinitely. He could _scream_.

They meet Kate outside a suitably stylish coffee shop, and even though Billy winces, she doesn’t actually look that mad at him. She even takes her sunglasses off to smirk at him, which can only be a good thing.

The less good thing is the way she is standing way too close to Tommy, levelling a pointed look at Billy. Is she asking his _permission_?

"You've got to be kidding me," He grumbles, but slaps one hand over his eyes and the other over Teddy's, who makes a confused noise. "Just - get it over with."

Then he does something he can’t even quite justify to himself, braving a brief peek between his fingers. It’s strange, because obviously the last thing he wants to see in the entire world is his brother kissing his best friend, but equally, it’s his _best friend and his brother_ , and he needs to satisfy himself that it isn’t, in fact, a terrible idea. He needs to know it’s okay.

Tommy, as it happens, is just looking sort of bemused. “Get what over with?” Kate shoots him a look that is mocking but also disgustingly fond, and yeah, okay, that’s all Billy needs to see. He squeezes his fingers shut again and counts to… five? Ten? He’s not risking it.

“You look,” he moans to Teddy. “I’m too traumatised.”

“You big baby,” Kate says, and drags him in by the wrist.

 

*

 

“So,” Kate says, having shouted them all down and bought lunch for them all on her dad’s card. “Tommy got me up to speed.” She turns to Teddy, who goes very, very still beside Billy. “I’m so sorry about your mom, Teddy. I had no idea.” Teddy makes an indistinct noise, and Kate hesitates for a moment. “I hear you’re living with these losers, now.”

Billy gives Teddy’s wrist a squeeze under the table. “We have assimilated him, yes.”

“A wonderful image,” Kate says dryly, and Billy tries not to rise to it. “So, Mr. Ragequitter-”

“I did _not_ ragequit.”

“You definitely did, but it was only offline so you can take it back before it gets official.” Kate raises an eyebrow. "Which you _are_ doing, right?"

“Well, I won’t if you’re going to be _mean_ to me,” Billy mutters, slouching down in his seat, but it’s not a ‘no’, and Kate clearly considers it a victory.

“So here’s the deal,” she says, beaming widely. “Nate is gone for good.”

“What?”

“He deleted everything, made new friends on Guild Wars 2 and won’t speak to any of us.”

“Good riddance,” Tommy says. He’d never really seemed to warm to Nate, for no particular reason Billy can see. He basically liked Nate, for all his faults.  It’s down to him they’re here at all, and Billy can’t quite see how it can continue without him.

“Yeah, to be honest - we managed to poach Jonas, now that he and Cassie are dating-”

“They are?” Billy sits up with a start. “What?”

“I mean, it’s a bit awkward with Nate being his brother and everything, but Jonas is super sweet. They're so _cute_ together, I want to pinch their cheeks and squeal for at least five hours.”

“I thought Cassie was dating Nate,” Billy says sheepishly. “You thought it too, Kate, remember -”

“That was _ages_ ago,” Kate says dismissively. “Keep up, Billy, jeez.”

“I never even thought that?” Teddy offers.

“Yeah, well.” Kate fights a grin. “You’ve been too busy-”

“So what else?” Billy says loudly, not liking the direction Kate seems to be headed in. “What about Eli?”

Kate hums thoughtfully. "Fed up, but I think we could convince him to come back."

"America?"

"Much the same, but she's always a bit of a wild card," Kate says thoughtfully, "I’ll take her, you take David. He'd come back if one of you asked, probably, which just leaves us. Teddy, you in?"

"If Billy is," Teddy says, giving him a mischievous grin. Billy groans. 

"I'm in, obviously," Kate continues, "and my loser boyfriend too, I'm guessing."

"Your boyf -" Tommy begins, indignant and hurt, before blinking rapidly and clamping his mouth shut. "- oh." He slouches down in his chair, perhaps in an (unconvincing) effort to downplay the pleased look on his face. "We - I - okay. I can work with that."

"Billy?" Kate says smoothly, seemingly ignoring Tommy, but the corner of her mouth twitches. Billy’s eye flick between her and Tommy, totally bemused. "Please?"

"Why do you even need me?" Billy moans, knowing a lost battle when he sees one. 

"You're an awesome healer," Teddy says loyally, "I will accept no other."

"Well, that," Kate says, exasperated and amused, "and also Nate passed GM duties onto Wiccan right before he quit."

Billy is utterly horrified. "Why? Why would he do that?" He takes it back, he never liked Nate. Fuck Nate.

"You guys were first, I guess," Kate shrugs, "he always liked you."

"Debatable, but okay." Billy wrinkles his nose. "So does anyone else want -"

"Hell, no."

"Please," Billy pulls his best puppy eyes. "I'll come back, but not as GM, no _way_."

"For what it's worth, I think you'll be great," Teddy says, and Billy wishes he had the heart to glare at him. “Wise and judicious and all that.” 

"You'll be fine," Tommy says, rather less indulgently. "Quit whining."

"I'll think about it," Billy says, his tone resigned and wearily horrified, and they all cheer like the victory they know it is.

 

*

 

Billy and Teddy head home together, after Kate grabs Tommy by the collar and announces she is borrowing him for the afternoon. (“Please don’t break and enter anything this time,” Billy pleads, and they shoot him terrifying matching grins. He doesn’t like them as a couple. They raise his blood pressure.)

Their first plan of attack is to send Eli a coordinated barrage of texts telling him how wonderful he is and how much they need him in their lives as they walk home.

“Okay, so if you send him that kitten holding up the ‘I love you’ sign, then I’ll send him the Aerosmith lyrics,” Billy says - and if GMing is all about coordinating important cat photos, then he really _is_ going to be great - and hunts for the most appropriate heart emoji to punctuate the end of each line.

“We’ll break him in no time.”

“Totally.”

Billy’s not even on the second verse of ‘Don’t Want to Miss a Thing’ when Eli texts back: ‘fuck off i’m in just please stop’, and they high five.

 

*

 

When they get home, Billy makes a point of throwing a couch cushion at his dad’s face, although he’s mostly unable to muster the same annoyance he felt this morning. 

“It wasn’t funny,” he tells him. 

“No?” Jeff says, grinning widely. “Does Teddy agree?”

“You don’t have to answer that,” Billy says, but Teddy is already fighting a smirk, the _traitor_ , so he levels one last unimpressed look at his dad, and drags Teddy upstairs.

Rebecca waylays them on the stairs with her sweetest smile (he’s right; Teddy is totally going to be her favourite) and asks if they’ll help cleaning out her office ready for Teddy.  

‘Help’ is a misnomer, Billy realizes after Rebecca disappears downstairs, and they find themselves surrounded by boxes and strict instructions to pack her books ‘carefully.’ They shrug at each other and start packing.

“I’ll put the piano over there,” Teddy says, and Billy snorts. “Knock a door through to the bathroom and have it as my own personal en suite, I think.”

“Swap you,” Billy says, grabbing another handful of books from the shelf. “It’s been a while since I had a room with four functional walls.”

“I’m good. You can keep him.”

“Who, Tommy?” Billy squints down at the box he’s packing, decides he can fit another layer of books in. “Depends on whether he traumatizes me some more.”

“You mean with Kate?” Teddy says, reaching over for another box. “I… didn’t see that one coming, actually.”

“Cass and Jonas, too,” Billy says, “we should probably just start advertising as a dating guild.”

Teddy laughs nervously at that. “Yeah. Look, about this morning…” He trails off uncertainly, and starts staring at the bookcase intently. Billy puts his own pile of books down and turns round to face Teddy, folding his arms for good measure.

“So here’s the thing,” Billy says, with a truly incredible lack of conviction. “This morning was a really bad idea.”

Teddy looks up at him and nods dutifully. “Probably. I mean, yes.”

“I mean, you hadn’t even been here twenty four hours, and I was already -” Billy makes a vague sweeping gesture with his hands. “Oh, god. Eighteen hours? I’m a terrible person.”

“Or from another angle,” Teddy says sheepishly, “eighteen hours into your parents’ incredibly kind hospitality and I was already all over their son.”

"You’re _living_ here,” Billy says desperately, “I’m supposed to be giving you _space_.”

“We shouldn’t really be setting up potentially awkward domestic situations?” Teddy suggests.

“Exactly,” Billy says, “and you need to settle in and get comfortable here, and - um -”

“Reasons,” Teddy says decisively, and they both pull a strange, half-grin half-grimace at each other.

“Right.”

Teddy drops his gaze to the book in his hand. “I don’t care,” he says finally, with an apologetic shrug.

“Me neither,” Billy breathes, “but we should.” He reaches for Teddy’s hand.

“Should care?” Teddy asks. “Or should…?”

“Take a breather?” Billy says, lacing their fingers together. “You need to settle in? We need to sort the guild out? Probably?”

“You make a convincing case,” Teddy says dryly, shuffling closer.

“Shut up. I’m trying to do the right thing here,” Billy says, but he is also reaching for the book in Teddy’s other hand, and dropping it carelessly in a nearby box.

“Which is?” 

"Um." They're standing very close. "Inappropriate secret makeouts in my mom's office?"

"So noble," Teddy teases, “so self-sacrificing and righteous-”

“Fine, okay, I’m retracting my offer. Office makeouts denied.”

“It’s not your mom’s office anymore,” Teddy points out, “it’s my room, actually.”

“Thanks for reminding me that you live here,” Billy grumbles, “and all ensuing weirdness and inappropriateness.”

“I dunno,” Teddy says consideringly, “it’s sort of convenient, really.”

“Oh good,” Billy says, “I’m _convenient_. Like a 7-11, or an ice cube dispenser-”

He’s interrupted by Teddy tipping his chin up with his fingers, giving him a fond and exasperated look. “An ice cube dispenser?”

“Shut up,” Billy grumbles, “just skip to the makeouts already.”

“Can do,” Teddy says brightly, and Billy leans in, after kicking his leg back behind him awkwardly to at least make an attempt to close the door this time. Young eyes, and all that. His brothers could probably do without further traumatization, or more likely, further fuel for glittery boyfriend cards.

Glittery boyfriend status being something that needs to be addressed at some point, but for now, it feels like kind of a moot point. Kissing against your mom's bookshelf feels a lot like glittery boyfriend activity.

Several long minutes later Rebecca comes to check on their progress, Billy pushing himself away from Teddy a little too dramatically, and she eyes the boxes with confusion. Billy falls backwards over a box in the fallout of his rush to be at the opposite end of the room, which Rebecca mostly ignores. He must be clumsier than he thought if this is unremarkable.

“I know I told you to be careful, but they’re not made of glass,” she says, demonstrating by picking a book up and dropping it down into a box solidly. “You can get more than this done in an afternoon, surely?”

They agree sheepishly and she leaves with a roll of the eyes, Billy turning pinker and pinker.

“This is going to be a problem,” Billy declares weakly, but Teddy just beams back at him in the most unfair, rainbow beam kind of way. “Baby unicorns,” Billy mutters.

“Huh?” Teddy offers a hand out to pull Billy up, which he takes gratefully.

“Nothing! Let’s get some actual packing done. I don’t want to share a bed with my pointy brother any more than can be avoided.”

 

*

 

_Wiccan has come online._

_Speed has come online._

_Hulkling has come online._

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : i hope youre not going to be that synchronised all the time now

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : its creepy

[Guild] [Stature] : YOU’RE BAAAACK

[Guild] [Speed] : finally

[Guild] [Hulkling] : hello!

[Guild] [Wiccan] : oh god

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : so what now illustrious gm

[Guild] [Wiccan] : oh no

[Guild] [Speed] : stop freaking out

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : it’s not a big deal billy

[Guild] [Speed] : its ok i’ll lean over and slap him

[Guild] [Wiccan] : ow?????

[Guild] [Speed] : uh oh it made him cross 

[Guild] [Speed] : i’m tagging altman in

[Guild] [Hulkling] : uhhh

[Guild] [Hulkling] : it’ll be great don’t freak out!!

_America has come online_.

[Guild] [Speed] : america!! who convinced you back into the fray

[Guild] [America] : your helldemon of a girlfriend

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : thanks babe

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : you say the sweetest things

[Guild] [America] : anytime

[Guild] [Speed] : what

[Guild] [America] : so what’s the plan

[Guild] [Wiccan] : who said there was a plan

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : we need to convince the avengers to let us stay on this server!!

[Guild] [Wiccan] : we could just move

[Guild] [Wiccan] : i mean

[Guild] [Wiccan] : oh come on guys it would be easier

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : NEVER GIVE UP

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : NEVER SURRENDER

[Guild] [Wiccan] : but

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : NOPE

[Guild] [Hulking] : come on billy

[Guild] [Hulking] : thats not in the spirit of a coming of age teen movie

[Guild] [Wiccan] : very funny

[Guild] [Wiccan] : FINE

[Guild] [Wiccan] : OK WHATEVER

[Guild] [Wiccan] : i’ll try come up with something

[Guild] [Wiccan] : bearing in mind one of them is literally my mom 

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : exactly. leverage

[Guild] [Speed] : um

[Guild] [Wiccan] : we’ll figure something out

[Guild] [Wiccan] : probably

[Guild] [Wiccan] : hey so does anyone else want to be gm maybe

[Guild] [Speed] : nah

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : nope

[Guild] [Patriot: No

[Guild] [Stature] : i’m good

[Guild] [America] : no

[Guild] [Hulkling] : I’ll be your officer?

[Guild] [Wiccan] : i hate every single one of you

[Guild] [Hawkeye] : good to have you back billy

[Guild] [Wiccan] : especially you

 

*

 

[Loki] whispers : hello Billy

To [Loki] : nope nope nope i am blocking you right now go away

[Loki] whispers : I want to apologize

To [Loki] : ok apology not accepted bye

[Loki] whispers : I thought you might say that

[Loki] whispers : so I’m doing you a favour

To [Loki] : what

[Loki] whispers : to apologize properly

To [Loki] : uhh thats okay 

To [Loki] : i’m good

[Loki] whispers : well, it’s too late. I’ve already done it

To [Loki] : ok ozymandias

To [Loki] : wait what did you already do

[Loki] whispers : I guess you’ll see soon enough

[Loki] whispers: I like you Billy

[Loki] whispers: I’m sad you don’t consider us friends

To [Loki] : ok you are seriously freaking me out what did you do

[Loki] whispers : anyway, I hope this helps

To [Loki] : HOPE WHAT HELPS

[Loki] whispers : this whole thing is my fault, in a way

To [Loki] : you mean it literally is your fault, right?

To [Loki] : because it literally is

[Loki] whispers : like I said, this should help with your problem

To [Loki] : and like I said

To [Loki] : WHAT DID YOU DO

[Loki] whispers : it’s been nice talking, Billy

To [Loki] : has it??? has it really????

[Loki] whispers : I hope it works out with Teddy

To [Loki] : um

To [Loki] : what

[Loki] whispers : I heard he’s living with you now

To [Loki] : OK THEN

To [Loki] : well this has been suitably horrifying

To [Loki] : blocking you in 3

[Loki] whispers : see you around, Billy

To [Loki] : 2

[Loki] whispers : hope you enjoy my gift!

To [Loki] : 1

To [Loki] : aaaaand goodbye

 

Billy blocks him with aplomb, and elects not to mention it to Teddy or Tommy. He’ll probably just find some cool gear in his inbox tomorrow, or something like that.

Probably.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I'm so sorry about the increasingly terrible chapter titles. I am getting such a kick out of it and I need to be stopped. 2. Sorry this took so long! Life got weird. 3. If you're still here, please accept my big slobbery internet kisses <3


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